


The Spectator 2: Back At It Again

by ArtemisWinnick



Series: The Spectator Saga [2]
Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Makeover, Non-Judging Breakfast Club (Gossip Girl), let's pretend I know anything about publishing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25753282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisWinnick/pseuds/ArtemisWinnick
Summary: It's the prince and the plebe, picking right up where we left off...
Relationships: Chuck Bass/Blair Waldorf, Dan Humphrey/Serena van der Woodsen, Nate Archibald/Original Character(s), Nate Archibald/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Spectator Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769071
Kudos: 14





	1. Back At It Again

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Ella scrunched her eyes closed and said the word like a prayer. Nate, for his part, was pretty proud of himself right now. He was giving her a hell of a back massage and this reaction… Almost better than sex. 

Almost.

“Christ, you’re tense,” He commented. “Do you sleep on a block of cement?”

“I have a lot of anxiety! You know this!” She exclaimed. He dug in right between her shoulder blades and her eyes rolled back into her head. “Oh,  _ fuck _ , baby. Just crack me all over like a glow stick.”

Nate snorted and gave her warm skin a parting kiss. “That’s enough for you, you’ve got  _ modeling _ to do.”

“Don’t say it like that doesn’t turn you on,” She quipped, rolling her shoulders luxuriously and stretching. He’d whisked her away after dinner with her family to his room in a little south beach hotel. It wasn’t as fancy as the Casa Casuarina, but, really, who gave a shit? They’d woken up this morning and done the same thing they did all last night— make very hot, very noisy love to each other. Without really thinking about it, he put a hand in her hair and started kissing her shoulder again. 

“I never said it didn’t turn me on,” He murmured, the whisper of his voice raising bumps up and down her bare skin. Her breathing hitched— and then she pulled away, laughing. 

“I have to get dressed! Behave yourself!”

“Then get out of here and start getting ready!” He gave her a light spank as she got out of bed. Giggling, she swatted his hands away and scampered off to the bathroom.

Nate watched her go with a stupid grin on his face. When she disappeared into the bathroom, he flopped back onto the bed. Ella’s phone immediately began to buzz loudly from the nightstand. Nate glanced over at it.

“Baby! Could you get that for me?” She called from the bathroom.

“Sure thing,” There was that stupid grin again from the sound of her calling him baby. Ella was really turning him into a sap. He rolled over onto his stomach and reached for the phone.

“Ella Vazquez’s phone…”

“Nate?” Blair asked, obviously surprised. Nate sat up immediately.

“Hey, Blair…” Grown man that he was, the sound of her voice on the line still made him nervous. He had to remind himself he wasn’t being caught doing anything wrong.

“...What are you doing answering Ella’s phone?” From the tone of her voice, Blair knew exactly what Nate was doing but wanted to confirm anyway.

“I came down to Florida yesterday and we… worked things out,” He informed her slowly. She shrieked. Nate laughed, moving the phone away from his ear. “Well, I’m officially deaf now.”

“I’m sorry, N, but-- Chuck! Guess what?” Nate could hear her calling to her husband, her tone triumphant. “Nate’s here in Miami with Ella. See? I told you they would work it out!”

Nate shook his head. “Well, I’m glad I helped you win whatever weird bet you had going with Chuck, but I’m assuming you called Ella for a reason?”

“Right, yes-- where the hell is she? We have hair and makeup in 15 minutes and she’s always early!”

Ella stepped out of the bathroom, bare faced and simply dressed. She saw Nate, still on the phone and frowned.

“Who is it?” She asked, coming to take it.

“It’s Blair,” He warned her. Her eyebrows shot up and she put the device to her ear.

“Hey, Blair,” She greeted her. “No, I know, I’m on my way right now… You want me to bring him? Let me ask-- Nate, do you maybe want to join us on set today? We’re having a beach shoot…”

“I mean, I was going to stay in and catch up on some work…” Nate trailed off. Ella bit her lip, covering the mouthpiece of her phone.

“I don’t know if this means anything to you, but we’re shooting swimsuits today…” She trailed off, with a little flutter of her eyelashes. Ella, modeling swimsuits on a beach… Nate considered it.

“I’ll meet you guys at the beach once I’m finished with calls, then,” He conceded. She grinned and gave him a kiss.

“Yeah, he says he’ll meet us there later. Just text him the location… Yes, I’m going! I’m running out the door right now!” She hung up and scrambled for her purse before heading to the door. “See you later, baby!”

\----------------------------

Nate wasn’t disappointed when he finally showed up to the South Beach location. They’d set up their cameras in the powdery white sand. The multicolored lifeguard station stood out strikingly against the blue of the ocean and the sky. Music was blasting. Ella… was nowhere to be found? He walked up to Blair, standing under the shade of a parasol her assistant was holding over her head.

“Hey, where’s--?” He began to ask where he could find his girlfriend, but Blair shushed him.

“I told her to get focused, so just stand over here with me for a second,” She told him.

Nate frowned and looked for Ella. The techs were adjusting the reflectors but he couldn’t spot her in the crowd. Suddenly, the music changed. It was some sort of rap/latin music hybrid and it was to this that Ella finally emerged from behind the wardrobe tent. 

She was breathtaking in a mustard yellow one piece and she didn’t look nervous the way he’d expected she would in front of the cameras. Maybe it was the week of experience under her belt, or maybe it was the music, but she looked bad ass, dripping in jewelry as she sensually leaned against the lifeguard station supports.

“Oui, oui, tres belle-- ,” The photographer sang her praises in French, assuming absurd poses himself to capture the best angle. But then, something changed. He suddenly straightened, no longer pleased. “Mais, non! Wait just one moment, mon Elle-- Patti! You are needed, come here! Quick, quick, quick!”

The makeup artist, with Henry Bass close at her heels, rushed over.

“What’s wrong, Jean Paul?” She looked Ella over with concern. Ella wasn’t paying attention anymore, now looking down and saying something to Henry. She ruffled his hair. Henry laughed and smoothed it back down. As the photographer exclaimed that she was simply not “glowing to le ciel,” the brunette’s eyes wandered over the crowd of technicians. She lit up when she saw Nate. She jumped and waved, like he somehow might not be staring at her right now. He waved back, a grin spreading on his face.

Blair looked over at him, one eyebrow delicately raised and the smuggest of smirks twisting her mouth. 

“Well, aren’t the two of you adorable,” She commented wryly. “And here I thought, all this time, that you were just good friends…”

Nate breathed in deeply, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Yes, well, you caught us. Congratulations,” He laughed. Blair chuckled.

“I’m happy for you Nate,” She said sincerely. “She’s a handful, but I think that’s exactly what you need.”

Nate was taken aback. Blair was saying something nice about one of his girlfriends? Sure, she’d met Ella before they started dating (literally yesterday) but… still...

“So you actually approve of us being together?” He asked dubiously.

“Why would I have told you to work it out with her if I didn’t?” She looked at him like he was stupid. 

“I guess, but you’re just always so…  _ negative _ about my relationships.”

“I am not negative, Nate. I’m just reasonably suspicious. Can you blame me? You attract predators like a baby deer in the woods,” Blair shook her head. Nate rolled his eyes.

“I do  _ not _ … I dated you before, didn’t I?”

Blair looked over at him. “I think we both know we dated each other for the wrong reasons. Especially those last few tries.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Nate conceded. Blair looked at Ella again and then back at her ex-boyfriend, pensively.

“Bridget,” She said suddenly.

“Yes?” Her assistant spoke up. Nate was startled. She’d been so quiet he’d almost forgotten she was there.

“Go find Henry and make him drink some water,” Blair instructed. When her assistant hesitated, she looked back at her. “Now, Bridget.”

Bridget still hesitated.

“Yes but… who will hold your parasol?”

Blair turned to Nate, all doe-eyes.

“Natie, would you mind?”

The man raised an eyebrow, but held out a hand for the umbrella anyway. Blair smiled smugly and Bridget hurried off. Immediately, Nate let the umbrella swing away from his childhood friend so she was now being hit by direct sunlight.

“Nate!” She hissed. 

“You can hold your own umbrella, Blair,” He handed it to her. She took it with a huff.

“It’s a parasol,” She growled, hoisting it so that she was safely back in the shade. “Chivalry really is dead…”

“Yeah, yeah,” He dismissed the jibe. “You sent your assistant away to tell me something, didn’t you?

“I did,” She blew out a breath, sobering a little. “I may be perfectly fine with you and Ella, but...You do realize not everyone is going to approve of your relationship, right?”

Nate narrowed his eyes. 

“You mean my grandfather?”

“No, I mean the media,” Blair quickly corrected him. ”Actually, your grandfather is probably going to love this as a story for you— rich, but progressive Nate Archibald marries young, hardworking Latina woman… subsequently wins mayoral election in a landslide...”

Nate was about to retort something about the idea of  _ marriag _ e or a  _ mayoral election _ being a little much at this point, but then the realization of how right she was dawned on him. His grandfather would find anyway to spin this for political gain...

“Oh, fuck me,” He whispered. Blair nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I think once the story breaks, your grandfather is probably going to want to get all chummy with you again,” She wiggled her fingers to illustrate her point.

“Alright, yes, that is better. Merci, Patti, merci.  _ Now _ you are a goddess, Ella! Maestro, music please!” Jean Paul pointed at Henry who pressed play on Ella’s phone. She’d carefully instructed him which playlist to choose— Blair wanted her to have fun on this shoot, but she’d also given her a character. The hot young professional. The salsa princess. The bad bitch from Miami. There was a lot of reggaeton on this playlist, suffice to say. Blair continued speaking just a moment after the music started blaring.

“But that’s the least of your problems. With the money you’ve been making, you don’t have to give into your grandfather. The media, however, will be  _ very _ publicly asking you some  _ very _ incriminating questions. So. I have to ask,” Blair leaned towards him, very seriously, all eye contact. “Have you deleted all your nudes?”

Nate grimaced. “We didn’t... send… nudes…”

Blair pursed her mouth. “Fine, don’t tell me. But delete them all, now! We do not need timestamped evidence of your…  _ shenanigans _ with Ella!”

As much as he wanted to laugh, it was these very shenanigans that were worrying him now.

“How much time do you think we have before they realize…”

“Until you get to New York. You might get a few days, but people know who you are. They’re going to notice the new girl you’re with,” Blair shrugged. “You just have to be prepared for the extra attention. They can’t prove anything inappropriate went on. Besides, you guys are both young and attractive. The media could eat this up if you tell them the right story!”

“The right story?” Nate really hoped she’d enlighten him, because, despite years being part of the media machine himself, he had no idea how to confront this sort of issue now that he was personally involved.

“You tell them,” she whispered, leaning closer, “That you two are just getting to know each other now. You go on a series of dates to show them how you’re wooing her—and we have the both of you dress well while you do it so you headline in both the fashion and the gossip columns,” Blair nodded sagely. “That’s how you build  _ sympathy _ , Nate. Trust me.”

He looked over to where the cameras were pointed. Ella was just joking around now, shaking her ass at the camera as Jean Paul went in for a low shot. 

“Mon dieu-- Ella, please! We are  _ not _ in a strip club,” He admonished her half heartedly, laughing. The model flashed a sudden, seductive look at the camera lens which hushed the photographer’s protests at her silly antics. CLICK! She was distractible, but some of these photos were worthy of a magazine cover… Nate couldn’t help but stare. She was captivating, unbearably sexy… It almost made him wish people weren’t around, ogling her in her half-naked state while she pranced around like she could convince the world to have sex with her.

He looked back at Blair with suspicion in his eyes.

“This photographer guy is gay, right?”

She gave him a look.

“Jean Paul is about as straight as a circle, Nate. Put the alpha male jealousy away, please.”

He rolled his eyes. “So all I have to do is take her on dates and look nice while I do it?”

“Among other things. But we can all sit down with Chuck later and hash out the details,” she assured him.

“I don’t want to freak her out with all this plotting and covering up, we just started dating…” Nate rubbed the back of his neck. He understood why the scheming was necessary but it frustrated him nonetheless. 

“If you want to protect the image of your relationship, we need to plan how you guys present yourselves to the press, Nate. This isn’t negotiable.”

“ _ Henri _ , it is your time to shine! Bring Ella her next outfit-- Quick, quick, quick!”

Henry dashed away from Bridget, who’d been trying to convince him to take a drink from his sippy cup, to grab the next bathing suit off the wardrobe rack. Ella flashed him a smile and grabbed it on her way to the wardrobe tent.

“You should go to her now while she changes and we pack this stuff up for the next location. She’s not going to have a lot of quiet moments today,” Blair urged Nate forward. He went over to the little tent and rustled the curtain doors.

“Knock, knock…” He peered inside. Ella was halfway into a pink, off the shoulder one-piece. She grinned when she saw him and quickly pulled it all the way on.

“Peeping on me, are you?” She asked, stepping out and into his arms. His arms twined around her automatically and he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips.

“Couldn’t help myself,” He smiled. In the distance, he heard a camera shutter go off. His head snapped towards the sound.

“What’s wrong?” Ella asked. Nate peered in the direction of the noise worriedly-- but then he saw that it was just Henry, holding Jean Paul’s camera.

“Say cheese!” he yelled before capturing another photo of them. Jean Paul quickly materialized beside him.

“ _ Henri _ ! What have I said? The camera is not a toy! Go help, Patti-- Quick, quick, quick! Mon dieu, this child will kill me!” 

\--------------------------------------------

In the mauve and orange twilight, the Bass-Waldorfs joined Nate and Ella for dinner at a little cafe right on the beach. Ella felt a little strange, being on this side of Ocean Drive instead of on the beach like she was used to, looking at the lines of restaurants, hotels, shops, and clubs from the sands across the street. 

The Upper East Siders, for their part, seemed perfectly at ease looking over their menus. She smiled to herself-- whether they’d intended to or not, they were all wearing coordinating pastels. Nate was wearing blue, Blair was wearing yellow, and Chuck was wearing pink. Ella was glad she’d settled on nice, safe white. She wouldn’t have wanted to disrupt their perfect color palette, after all.

Orders placed and food on the way, Chuck folded his hands and assessed the couple in front of him. Blair had briefed him fully in what transpired the last few days, but this would never work if they didn’t look  _ cute  _ together. He watched as Ella nudged Nate, who had his face buried in a drinks menu. She pointed to something on the page that made him roll his eyes and chuckle.

“It’s French,” He told her. “It’s pronounced  _ coq au vin _ .”

She smirked.

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now a days--.” Ella glanced up and caught Chuck staring at them. She stared back. “You okay, Chuck?”

Nate looked up to see what was going on just as Chuck turned to Blair. 

“You’re right, they’re very marketable…” He nodded pensively.

“Marketable?” Ella frowned. “Who are you selling us to, exactly?”

“The American public,” Blair explained, as though that clarified anything.

“Nate… translate, please,” Ella turned to her boyfriend, her eyebrows arched.

“Blair and I were talking earlier and we realized that you and me aren’t necessarily out of the woods yet-- the press will eventually find out that you used to work for me and that will raise questions,” Nate clarified quietly. The restaurant was loud, too loud to be heard over the din.

“Well, yeah, of course, but-- what are we supposed to do about that? I don’t work for you anymore and there’s no evidence of anything going on before…” Ella trailed off, eyes darting around the table. “Wait, you guys actually want us to engage with the press? Why can’t we just ignore them?”

“Nathaniel, unfortunately, is kind of a celebrity because of Gossip Girl. The tabloids still keep up with him, though not like they used to…” Chuck informed her.

“That’s only because he wasn’t dating, though,” Blair interjected. “He’s a very eligible bachelor, Ella. People are going to be very interested in how you caught his eye after the long hiatus.”

Ella’s eyes were wide open, her back pressed against the back of her chair. Nate kept his eyes on her worriedly. This was the part where she decided this was too much of a hassle and ran off into the hazy Miami sunset.

“But…I...” She sputtered and then seemed to retreat into her thoughts again. The table watched her closely as her expression suddenly transitioned. Her eyes narrowed sharply and she leaned forwards, hands folded on the table. Nate knew that change of posture. She was in brainstorming mode. “Okay. That sucks, but it makes sense. So, we need to spin this to make sure people don’t get the wrong impression.”

“Exactly,” Chuck smiled.

“I’m assuming our M.O. is going to be deny, deny, deny, right?” She queried. Nate raised his eyebrows in surprise. Ella caught the look and shrugged a little. “Don’t forget I was a tabloid journalist, like, two weeks ago…”

Nate huffed. “The lifestyle section is not a tabloid!”

“Sure, sure, sure,” Ella waved off his objections. “My point is, I know what the media machine thinks like. They’re going to start by finding out who the fuck I am-- that will lead them to my employment at the Spectator. Then, it will be a hunt for photos of us together before I resigned. There are only a few of those, from professional functions, and I deleted… everything else, so we’re okay on that front.”

Blair and Chuck smiled smugly at the mention of “everything else,” very amused by the sudden reddening of Nate’s cheeks. Ella was a little pink herself, but this was business. Embarrassment had no place here. She soldiered on.

“So, we’re left with our story. How we met, how we started dating, where we’re at right now…” She looked at Nate pensively. “Nothing happened while I was at the Spectator, but we respected and admired each other. Towards the end, there was an attraction but neither of us acted on it or said anything. I was totally surprised when you asked me on a date shortly after… which I haven’t had the chance to take you up on.”

Chuck leaned back in his seat.

“Are you sure there’s no chance they snapped photos of the two of you before? Like after the launch party or here in Miami for New Years?”

“After the launch party?” Ella and Nate both asked simultaneously. They hadn’t told anyone about what happened that night. Nate had even covered his tracks and said that he was with Aurora!

The Bass-Waldorf’s rolled their eyes.

“You told Chuck you were with Aurora-- while we were literally looking at her. So, yes, we knew when you were with Ella that night.”

Ella put her face in her hands and Nate was red again. She looked at him and shook her head. 

“They tricked me! How could I have known!” He put his hands up defensively.

“You’re so lucky you’re pretty,” She muttered to him, before clearing her throat. “But to get back to your questions, I’d like to answer with another question: If they had photos of Nate and I before now, why wouldn’t they have published them already? It would have been a scandal, perfect for the news outlets.”

“Point taken,” Chuck assented.

“You know what, though,” Nate squinted, deep in thought. “I don’t think Ella and I  _ should _ engage directly with the press— unless it’s absolutely necessary. Volunteering too much information right off the bat is suspicious, don’t you think?”

“I agree,” Blair leaned forward. “Unless it’s necessary, you leave the dissemination of your story with Ella to us. Serena can probably help, too, spreading the rumors about how you’re chasing Ella because you’re in love, etc, etc. The two of you just have to sell it.”

“Sell it?” Ella asked. 

“Dates. You need to go on dates and you need to act like you’re falling in love,” Chuck said bluntly.

“Oh, well, geez… however will we manage…” Ella shook her head, turning to smile slyly at Nate. Even with all the time they’d shared during the ‘illicit affair’ stage of their relationship, this was still brand new to both of them. He felt a little current run through him, reaching to hold her hand under the table.

“I know you  _ actually _ hate me... but how do you feel about joining me for a date next Saturday?” He asked playfully. She blushed immediately. It was so stupid to feel nervous and fluttery about going on a date with him at this stage in the game, but nonetheless... Her lips twisted to stop from smiling too widely.

“I can put aside my distaste of you for a few hours, at least,” She replied, her eyes flickering to his mouth. 

“Nauseating,” Blair stared at them in fascination. “They’re perfect.”

Nate gave her a withering glare, but Ella just grinned, nonplussed. The Bass-Waldorf's had zero issues making everyone uncomfortable with their PDA, she wasn’t about to let the kettle introduce itself to the pot.

“I’m assuming these dates are going to be our marketing campaign to the American public…”

“You would assume correctly,” Chuck confirmed, smirking at the little exchange. 

“Which means  _ you _ need a makeover,” Blair told her. Ella squeaked indignantly.

“Me? What about him? All he ever wears are suits and khakis!”

“I think we both know I make these khakis  _ work _ ,” Nate retorted, entirely serious. Ella snorted in response, but didn’t argue because… well, he was right, damn him. 

“What’s wrong with how I dress?” She looked down at herself. 

“Nothing… when you try,” Blair smirked. “Otherwise your outfits are a blur of neutral sweaters and slacks, El. It’s boring.”

“But that’s for work…” She trailed off. “I don’t really have the budget to be buying a bunch of new clothes, guys, I don’t know--.”

At that the Bass-Waldorf’s started laughing. Nate squeezed Ella’s hand, watching how her lips thinned out and her eyebrows started lifting. She did not appreciate being laughed at-- at least not in this situation.

“You think we didn’t take that into account?” Chuck wheezed. 

“Oh, honey, don’t even worry about it,” Blair patted Ella’s free hand with a glint in her eyes. “You and I can work something out…”


	2. The Things We Do for Love and Money

Ella had a love/hate relationship with her new boss, Jackie Woodrow. She was one of the most accomplished, talented editors at the publishing house. She had even written some of her own work that Ella really liked and she had this fascinating, frenzied way of speaking so her hands were always moving and her eyes crazy and wide open. She was such a character. But, if Ella admired Woodrow, Woodrow seemed completely indifferent about Ella. 

“Ella, honey, fetch me a cappuccino? My caffeine levels are dangerously low,” She wiggled her fingers at her assistant. Ella put down the manuscript she’d just started looking at.

“Sure thing, boss,” She laughed weakly. Another coffee run. The third today and it was only noon.

“Caffeine levels dangerously low in there?” Jada, another intern, asked as Ella walked by her cubicle. She knew how Woodrow was because she’d been the coffee slave before they’d taken Ella aboard. The two of them had immediately bonded over this changing of the guard.

“Her hands almost stopped shaking for a second there. How could I let it come to this?” Ella rolled her eyes, taking a second to lean on her friend’s cubicle forlornly. 

“She only abuses you because she likes you,” Jada comforted. Ella pursed her lips.

“She likes these long, coffee-running legs, that’s what she likes,” She laughed. “Whatever, you want anything?”

“Muffin me, bitch,” Jada took a few dollars out of her wallet and gave it to her.

“One muffin coming right up,” And Ella was back on her way to Starbucks. She shared a sigh and a laugh with the barista who already knew what she wanted because of trips she’d made earlier in the day. 

If Nate saw her doing this, he’d have a fit, but this wasn’t his life, was it? And normal people didn’t just get multi-million dollar businesses dropped onto their laps, they did awful, mundane shit like this for money. She just had to stay positive and productive, that was all. She decided next time she’d bring her manuscripts with her and read while she waited for the coffee. She was going to give this job 110% until Woodrow finally started telling someone else to ‘fetch’ coffee. She left Starbucks with a cappuccino, a chocolate muffin, and a new sense of hope. 

Three more coffee runs and a workday later, all of these were gone.

\------------------------------------

“Ella, you look like a model. So, we’re going to dress you like one,” Blair began her speech, picking items off one of the many racks in her office. 

Ella, for her part, sat slumped in a swivel chair looking less than enthusiastic. The Waldorf Designs studio was beautiful and the assortment of clothing she was surrounded by was awe-inspiring… but she’d just gotten out of work. And it had been a loooong week starting at the Publishing House. All she wanted was to go over to Nate’s place and cuddle this afternoon. But she couldn’t do that. In fact, she hadn’t been able to do that all fucking week because, apparently, they weren’t  _ allowed _ to. 

Ella almost had a fit when the Bass-Waldorf's informed them that, not only was she going to have to be Blair’s model/slave for another campaign in exchange for access to an endless carousel of new clothes, she couldn’t start spending nights at Nate’s place for a while. To make the ruse of a budding relationship believable, of course. Couldn’t be caught shacking up yet when he had only just asked her out on a date, right?

Ella now wanted to argue that, while a few stories had been published about Nate’s arrival in New York with a hot, young, unknown Latina in tow, there hadn’t been the public outroar Blair and Chuck had predicted. But she knew it was a stupid argument. These things always started small and then started to snowball. It was only a matter of time— probably by this weekend, if she knew anything about journalism— before they would start publishing about her very recent employment at The NY Spectator. 

Thus, exasperated but resigned, she leaned her head on her hand and swiveled herself back and forth. 

“I don’t really see what’s wrong with how I dress now…” She interrupted Blair’s on-going speech with a sigh. Blair didn’t even look back at her.

“I will concede that you’ve got a cute vibe going on for work— Classic, minimalist, very clean and a little androgynous… It’s not really my personal cup of tea but it’s very in right now, and I can appreciate the aesthetic. Especially those loafers you’ve got on.”

Ella glanced down at her feet. Yeah, these were her favorites.

“But,” Blair continued, rummaging and pulling items from the rack. “You and I both know that once the first week jitters are over, you’re going to be wearing all black, all the time. You dress well, Ella, you just… you’re lazy.”

“I am not!” Ella straightened up. She then slumped back into her seat, considering, “Well, with clothes maybe I am. But how can you expect me to have the energy to do whole new outfits every day?”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for now,” Blair finally spun around and dumped a stack of clothing, still on the hangers into her lap. “Go try these on, come up with outfits and we’ll take photos for you to reference. The first outfit is a date outfit— think casual and not overly sexy—and then we’re doing one Sunday casual outfit, and five work outfits.”

Ella just sat there staring forlornly at the clothes.

“I can’t believe I have to—.”

“Quit complaining and go try on the pretty clothes, Ella! Could you be more ungrateful? You’d think I was making you walk over hot coals!” Blair exclaimed, pulling her out of her seat and shoving her towards the screen partition. Groaning, she ducked behind and started undressing.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the clothes, Blair, it’s all beautiful— wow, especially this top, this is gorgeous…” Ella lost her train of thought for a moment, but then recovered. “But it’s just the amount of effort… I already have a job!”

“You once told me you don’t mind putting in the work for things that matter to you, didn’t you? These first few weeks of dating Nate are going to make or break his public image,” Blair’s voice came floating over the screen. “Just remember that and maybe doing this will seem easier to you.”

Ella rolled her eyes at the obvious guilt trip and kept trying to put something together.

“I don’t suppose he told you where he’s taking me,” She muttered.

“He did, actually,” The smirk on Blair’s face was audible. “I helped him plan it. I would suggest the white sweater dress...”

“Great,” Ella picked up the article of clothing with a little sigh. “So this dress… you picked it because we’re doing something fancy? Are we having lunch?”

Blair heard the edge of curiosity in her voice and raised a brow to herself.

“Ella, I’m not going to tell you a damn thing about the date.”

“Can’t you tell me something? Anything?” The panic rose in Ella’s voice.

“It’s not going to be fancy— it’s just going to be cloudy tomorrow, so you should try the dress on with the camel coat and maybe the matching boots…” Was the sing-songy suggestion.

“I thought  _ I _ was picking my outfits,” Ella grumbled, before stepping out from behind the screen. Blair stared at her.

“Ella… just… be quiet and look at yourself, please,” Blair stood from her chair and turned the petite woman towards the full-length mirror. “White looks good on you, doesn’t it?”

Ella looked at herself-- the white turtleneck sweater dress skimmed over her curves beautifully.

“...Are you sure white’s a good idea? What if I spill something?” She suddenly asked.

Blair looked her reflection right in the eye.

“Well, you know what they say, if you break it you bought it…” She watched the dark brown eyes grow huge and round. 

“But-- I--!”

“I’m just kidding, if you spill something there’s always dry cleaning. Jesus, Ella, relax…” Blair chuckled.

Ella peered at herself in the mirror, her eyes taking in the outfit. She looked great. But these heels…

“I don’t want to wear these boots,” She said aloud, before wandering towards the selection of shoes. So many cute samples in her size… 

“But—,” She could hear Blair start to protest.

“Just give me a second and if you hate what I come up with, I’ll wear the boots, I just… I hate wearing heels,” She rummaged and dug up a pair of Nikes in the same soft beige-y camel color as the coat. She sat down to pull them on.

“Sneakers?” Blair almost had an aneurysm. “But— the boots! They go with your bag!”

Ella sauntered past in the new kicks to look at herself in the mirror.

“God damn that looks good,” She twisted and turned admiring the effect. She threw a smirk at Blair. “Admit it, come on… this is a vibe.”

“No. Those are sneakers instead of genuine leather Manolo booties.”

“Blair, you know there’s a sportswear trend circulating right now…” Ella wheedled. “Just think about the optics. Who do you think the public will respond better to-- relatable, modern woman wearing sneakers on a first date, or tired, overdone faux-socialite trying really hard to be what she isn’t?”

“I guess…” Blair tilted her head trying to think of the outfit objectively. If minimalism wasn’t really her cup of tea, the new sportswear trend Ella was referencing was definitely not even in the same teahouse as what she personally liked but… Still. Blair hadn’t come this far as a designer and entrepreneur by being close-minded. “Fine. But only delicate jewelry.”

“I like the way you think,” Ella nodded, “I’ve got some at home, a couple of rings and necklaces. Little earrings. Nothing too loud, I want to keep it clean… So, on to the next outfit?”

Blair gave her an appraising look. Maybe she had less work to do with Ella than she thought. She waved her hand imperiously.

“By all means, get to it.”

______________

She had two missed calls from Nate by the time she was finished. She called him as soon as she was back in her apartment. She put her phone on speaker and tossed it onto the bed so she could start changing out of her work clothes.

“Miss me, huh?” She asked as soon as he said hello.

“Maybe…” He said, audibly smiling. “How’d it go with Blair?”

“It… went,” She took off her top. “But I guess you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to know the details, since you like withholding information so much…”

“Don’t be bitter,” Nate laughed. “I’m just trying to surprise you!”

“Blair said it was going to be casual… was she understating things or can I rest easy in my outfit choices?” Ella unzipped her pants. 

“Rest easy, this is going to be pretty low key,” He assured her. Ella scooped up the phone again, sprawling onto her bed in her underwear.

“Do you think they’ll let you take me home afterwards?” She murmured into the phone. He chuckled a little.

“I don’t know… but maybe I don’t care,” He told her, so his voice hummed in her ear. “I’m thinking about just kidnapping you, fuck the press…”

“You’ve been thinking about kidnapping me, Archibald?” She asked innocently, running the fingertips of her free hand over the sensitive skin of her belly. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason, I was just thinking we could hang out… Watch a movie, smoke some pot, you know…” 

“That doesn’t sound like an awful way to spend my night,” She smiled. “Alright, but after we smoke… what would we do then?” 

There was a little pause on Nate’s end as he gathered his thoughts. It only took him a second, he’d been fantasizing about her all day.

“Well, I’d probably kiss you,” He started slow, “Put my tongue in your mouth a little…”

“Mm,” Ella bit her lip, imagining it. “Maybe I would start kissing your neck, biting down right on your traps…”

She knew that was one of his things, being bitten on his traps right at the base of his neck. He liked it just hard enough that it hurt a little— Ella was particularly talented in getting him to break out in goosebumps when she did.

“If you bite me, I don’t think I’m going to want to just kiss you any more,” He warned her. “Speaking of which...What are you wearing?”

Ella laughed a little.

“I was wearing slacks and a sweater earlier, which I know you hate so much…”

“I do  _ not _ hate your slacks and sweaters, babe. Even if you do own hundreds of them,” he interjected.

“Oh? Maybe I should put them back on then, because they’re on the floor right now…” She informed him sultrily. Nate, who had been lying on his bed checking emails, pushed his laptop off of him now. He loved it when her voice dropped like this, low and breathy over the phone line.

“Well, tell me what you’re wearing now and then I’ll decide,” He prompted her, his own voice lowered now.

“I’m in my underwear now… but you don’t like that, do you?” She asked. He could almost feel the brush of her lips on his ear.

“Oh, I hate it,” He replied breathlessly, “I don’t suppose you’re wearing one of those lacy thongs…”

“I am actually… Fuck, I wish you were here,” She murmured, breaking character as she felt a particularly deep pang of longing.

“What would you want me to do to you if I were?” He asked slowly. 

“Well…” A smile spread on her face. She could think of a few things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies!
> 
> Just wanted to let you know I'm going to try and post updates every Friday as I finish editing chapters. I'm not certain how long this story is going to be, but it will be at least 6 chapters based on what I have so far. Hope you're enjoying so far and can find it in your hearts to forgive me for making you wait for more smut lol, I don't think I know how to write something that doesn't involve slowburn.
> 
> XOXO  
> Artemis Winnick


	3. No Chill

Ella was feeling better about her arrangement with Blair the next morning, now equipped with a full eight hours of sleep. She woke up to texts from Nate, begging her to come over for breakfast (and other things). She smiled, but they both knew that couldn’t happen. So, she just pottered around, caught up on some work stuff, and then set about the process of getting ready a couple of hours before noon. 

She found herself growing increasingly nervous as the time approached for him to come pick her up. Part of it was the anticipation of seeing him after a week apart, which she didn’t really understand. It wasn’t like she’d never had a boyfriend or been in love before, but... Nate… fuck. Besides all the drama they’d been through, there was something more between them, something she wasn’t used to, and she had to admit she definitely still wasn’t accustomed to the idea of them being an  _ item _ . 

She was dating him. He was her boyfriend. She didn’t have to be nervous around him. She repeated this to herself as she paced across her apartment, trying to calm down.

There was another, more logical aspect to her anxiety that also kept surfacing. She’d never thought she’d have to deal with public scrutiny in her life. The only time her name had ever appeared in newspapers before was in the bylines of the Spectator-- and that was the way she liked it. If Blair and Chuck were right, she was about to kiss her blissful privacy goodbye. She breathed deeply and sat down on her couch fully dressed, watching TV to distract herself until Nate showed up. Unfortunately, whatever she’d put on wasn’t enough to keep her thoughts from circling yet again. What if things went sideways? What if their careers were ruined? What if--

Her phone buzzed. She picked up quickly.

“Hello?”

“I’m downstairs,” His voice washed over her and suddenly all of her jitters exploded into a mess of butterflies. The butterflies were just as distracting, but at least they felt more pleasant than the anxiety spiral.

“I’ll be right there,” She told him and hung up. She stood quickly, grabbing her bag before she gave herself one last check in the mirror-- everything was in order. Time to go on a date with Nate Archibald.

\--------------

Nate was waiting for her outside, sans car and driver. He smiled as he caught sight of Ella pushing through the front doors of her apartment building. She stepped out and, his view of her now unobstructed, he had to stop his jaw from dropping. Closing the distance, she gave him a little twirl so he could see her from all angles.

“Nice, right?” She asked, grinning.

“You look gorgeous,” he immediately stepped closer as though to kiss her.

“Slow your roll, tiger,” She put a delicate hand on his chest and stepped back. She shook back her hair primly. “I don’t kiss on the first date…”

Nate raised his brows amusedly.

“Not even if your date brings you flowers?” He extended the hand he’d been keeping behind his back-- a beautiful little bouquet of daisies. Ella took it, a surprised smile lighting up her face. She buried her face in the flowers, inhaling.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” She exhaled, looking back up at him. “This is good stuff-- the press is going to eat this up.”

He rolled his eyes.

“The flowers are for you, not the reporters,” He clarified, with a look. “Let’s just try and pretend we aren’t being watched, okay?”

“We’re… being watched right now?” She asked, glancing around. If her anxiety had wandered off before, it reared its ugly head again now.

“I didn’t want to tell you because it would stress you out…” He began, watching her eyebrows lift. He continued anyway, “But they’ve been following me around all week,” He sighed. “There’s a couple of paparazzos across the street. The guys in hoodies, acting casual.”

“Aren’t they with the Times?” Ella peered at them over Nate’s shoulder surreptitiously. They looked familiar from press conferences. 

“Yep.”

“Max fucking Thompson, dude. The man has no chill,” she shook her head, making Nate laugh. 

“Well, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” He offered her an elbow. She looped her arm through his, putting the flowers in her coat pocket.

“We’re walking?” She asked.

“I figured… why not explore Brooklyn a little?” He looked at her from the corner of his eye. 

“What exactly are we exploring?” She squinted back at him searchingly.

“You’ll see,” He smiled smugly.

“You know how much not knowing things frustrates me, Nate! I don’t appreciate this,” she huffed. 

“But it’s so funny watching you get frustrated,” he smiled. 

“Can I at least know what street we’re headed towards? So I can help guide you, Manhattan man,” she clarified.

Nathaniel scoffed.

“Ella. I’ve lived in New York my  _ entire life _ . I think I can find my way around a  _ little _ better than you can, Ms. 305-til-you-die.”

She looked up at him, eyes narrowed, but there was a playful glint in her eyes.

“Did you really just reference Pitbull? First off… How dare you? That man is the people’s champ— and it’s  _ Mr. Worldwide _ , to you, buddy.”

Nate couldn’t help but chuckle. Ella grinned up at him hopefully.

“Come on, I made you laugh. Have some pity, just tell me the street,” She wheedled, hoping to have charmed him into coughing up some information, “It’s not like I can deduce where we’re going in New York City from a street name alone…”

He looked down at her, shaking his head. He’d lost a very persistent reporter when she resigned from the Spectator.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” He murmured to her, so she’d blush. It worked. “So, fine— we’re walking towards Union.”

“Union…” She repeated, obviously starting to think about it. She suddenly smiled. “You know what’s funny?”

“What?”

“Blair wanted me to wear heels for this date. And she said she helped you plan it, which means she knew there was this amount of walking involved...”

“You have to remember, she came out of the womb wearing a pair of pumps,” Was his explanatory reply. “Her and Serena both just wear heels all the time. They’re used to it.”

“That’s true,” Ella turned the idea over in her mind. She was trying to remember a time she hadn’t seen them wearing heels and was drawing up a blank. “In any case, I’m glad I decided to wear these bad boys.”

Nate glanced down at her feet. Nikes. She was wearing Nikes.

“Is it weird that those are kind of hot?” He asked aloud.

“No, it’s definitely a vibe,” Ella assured him, bumping her hip against his. “Speaking of vibes...You look pretty handsome yourself right now.”

Grey henley, brown leather jacket, dark blue jeans… It was very him, but elevated somehow.

“Blair helped a little, otherwise I don’t think I would have worn this jacket,” He confessed. Ella appraised the choice.

“You were going to wear a blazer, weren’t you,” She stated, smiling a little.

“Blair said it was too reminiscent of something I’d wear to the office, so she nixed it— Quit laughing!” He admonished her, who was cracking up.

“Ay… I’m just surprised she didn’t put you in one of those cardigans you like,” She continued chuckling. “You know, the ones that make you look like a sea captain—.”

“I— It’s a classic look!” He protested.

“I don’t disagree with you!” She assured him. “You look like a very sexy, very  _ preppy _ , sea captain. It kind of turns me on.”

Nate snorted as she wiggled her eyebrows lecherously at him.

“Jesus Christ, I love you,” He shook his head. She turned bright red. They hadn’t been tossing those three little words around lightly since they’d first said it. It had lingered between them quietly, the weight of it. But he’d said it again so easily just then. It made her feel warm inside.

“I love you too— wait, do you think they can read lips?”

“Who?” Nate asked. He then remembered. “The reporters? Probably not.”

“Oh, okay,” She exhaled. “Because then they’d think you’d fallen in love with me not even an hour into our first date. You’d seem kind of desperate…”

“Wow, your anxiety sass is off the charts right now,” he raised his eyebrows at her. “Don’t get me wrong, you can keep making fun of me if it makes you feel better, but…”

“I’m not making fun of you, I’m just joking around,” She pouted before her face fell guiltily, “I’m sorry, it just kind of freaks me out that there are people watching us right now.”

He pulled her close, giving her arm a squeeze.

“I know. It’s okay, it’s going to be dark where we’re going,” He said soothingly. One eyebrow arched on the beautiful brunette’s face.

“It’s going to be dark, huh?” She started thinking again, narrowing down possible venues. Nate rolled his eyes. 

“We’re almost there! Just— trust me, you’ll know where we’re going as soon as you see it,” He told her. Geez, you could take the girl out of journalism but you couldn’t take journalism out of the girl.

When they turned onto Union avenue, she swept the street for possibilities. They walked for a bit more— and then she spotted it.

“Are you taking me to that place that says ‘Barcade’?” She asked, a little wide-eyed. “Because that sounds fucking awesome.”

“I knew you’d like it,” He smiled widely. She looked up at that smug smile and bit her lip.

“I want to kiss you really badly,” She whispered.

“No, no. Wouldn’t want you to seem desperate, would we?” He clucked his tongue, leading her across the street. She made a little indignant noise and then laughed. 

“Touché,” She conceded as he opened the door for her. “Touché.”

He gave her a grin and she felt that… maybe… everything was going to be okay.

_____________________

It only took a few beers and a couple of games to realize that Ella plus an arcade equaled her bending over alluringly over pinball machines for extended periods of time. It didn’t matter so much until she took her coat off and all that was between Nate and her was just a sweater dress. As he stood too close to her for the thousandth time, she pushed him aside with a little swivel of her hips before re-focusing on her game.

“Nate,” She called his attention dryly. “I know my ass is distracting but there really is no other way for me to play this game…”

He leaned down next to her ear— too close again!— to whisper, “I’m sorry, I just really wanna fuck you right now.”

She froze a little, a tiny shiver running down her spine. She straightened and looked at him, the game be damned. 

“Why are you torturing me?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“I’m not trying to torture you I just— have you seen you? I really don’t want to pretend we’re on a first date right now!” He hissed in a low whisper. She started laughing, but it was a little sad.

“Me, too, babe. Me, too.” She told him with a sigh. She looked towards the trainwreck she’d left on the game machine and then gestured for him to hand her their beers. “It’s your turn. Now I get to stare at  _ your _ ass.”

\---------------------------

Tipsy and warm, Ella held onto Nate’s arm as they left the Barcade. It was dark outside now. The reporters had been keeping their distance for most of their date, so she’d almost forgotten about them. Well, not really, but she was having a good time with Nate so she wasn’t nervous anymore.

“Did she really ask you to ‘fetch’ her coffee?” He asked incredulously, continuing a conversation they’d started inside. “Like a dog?”

“Oh, yeah,” She nodded. “Woodrow’s convinced I’m her personal golden retriever, so I spend half my time running to and from Starbucks.”

“Dan never did that kind of thing to you, did he?” He looked at her, getting a little serious.

“I mean… I had to get him coffee sometimes but not like this. This should have been part of the job description honestly,” She laughed lightheartedly, trying to ease his mood. His mouth was set in a line now, though. 

“I can’t believe they’re treating you like this,” he muttered. “This is why I said you shouldn’t leave the Spectator--.”

“Babe,” She sighed. “This is how it is when you first start working somewhere, okay? I’m basically starting on the ground floor, I can’t expect them to take me seriously yet. I have to prove myself. It’s going to take some time.”

“Yeah, I know, but-- you deserve better. You’re so talented and they’re wasting you on coffee runs.”

She looked over at him and smiled a little.

“I knew it was going to be like this when I left, Nate,” She said softly. “I don’t mind…”

She might not have, but Nate still wasn’t happy about this. He knew she couldn’t come back to work for him-- something that was equal parts good and frustrating. He was glad they could be together, but if it meant her career was going to suffer… 

They kept chatting as they strolled, mostly Ella complaining about work and Nate laughing at her impressions of her co-workers, but the wheels were turning deep in his mind. There had to be something he could do. He wondered who owned the publishing company and whether he knew them. He looked at his girlfriend’s animated face. She wouldn’t want him to meddle but…

“Well, this is my stop,” She said as they paused in front of her dilapidated apartment building. He wrinkled his nose a little.

“Has Blair told you when you’re allowed to move in with me, because this.... This is still unacceptable,” He tried to say it lightly, but she gave him a look.

“There are so many things wrong with what you just said, I don’t even know where to start,” She pulled her arm from his. He immediately reached out and grabbed her hand to keep her from pulling away.

“What’s wrong with what I just said?” He asked. “You can’t tell me you enjoy living here-- the heating barely works!”

“I know it doesn’t, and of course I don’t like it here-- but it’s  _ my  _ apartment, you know?” She huffed. “I don’t need a constant reminder that I live in a hovel, Nate.”

“That’s not what I meant--.”

“How long have we been dating? A little over a week? You really think it’s okay to move in with each other at this stage?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Also, we don’t have to ask Blair or Chuck or Serena or Dan or any other one of our friends for permission to do anything. We’re two grown-ass adults! We can deal with the pace of our relationship by ourselves!”

Nate was taken aback by the intensity of her response. 

“I… you make some good points,” He conceded, rubbing the back of his neck. Ella crossed her arms as though to say  _ duh _ . “I’m not trying to pressure you into moving in with me if it’s too soon for you. I was just thinking we could pool resources, you know? We’re together now and this… This is serious for me, El. Now probably isn’t the right time, but a few months from now, who knows....”

Ella twisted her mouth, but he could see she was already softening.

“It would look really bad if I moved in with you so soon, babe,” She sighed.

“I get that, it’s just… you know what? I’m just getting ahead of myself. You’re right. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” He reached for her hand again, eyes all puppyish and sweet and reasonable… “But you know you need to move at some point. The security at this place is laughable.”

Ella pursed her mouth.

“What? Living in constant fear isn’t the kind of ambience you like?” She joked. Her tone was still sharp, but she hadn’t let go of his hand so he took the opportunity to step closer, taking her other hand.

“Oddly enough, not the kind of ambience I want for you,” He half-smiled. She looked down at her feet.

“I don’t know if I can afford another place, Nate…” She admitted quietly.

“I know,” Nate had to physically stop himself from asking her to move in again-- it just seemed like the logical thing to do!-- but he managed it. “But we can look, right? My real estate agent is one of the best--.”

“Nate…” She muttered in warning. “Real estate agents aren’t free, are they?”

“No, but--.”

“No buts!” She quickly reached up and kissed him. It was obviously meant to be just a peck to shut him up, but it had been so fucking long (a whole week) since they’d done anything but hold hands. Nate couldn’t just let her pull away afterwards. Slipping his hands under her coat, he tugged her to him by the waist and deepened the kiss. Ella was breathless and pink when he released her. No one kissed like Nate Archibald. No one.

The pleasant lightheadedness from kissing him was short lived as she remembered that not only were they probably being photographed this very moment, she couldn’t just keep kissing him like she wanted to. She twisted up her mouth and then let out a groan, beating his chest with her fists.

“God damn it, this is so stupid!” She complained. 

“Jesus, I won’t kiss you again if this is the way you react…” He teased, hands still on her hips.

“Shut. Up! This is not funny, I am dying over here from sexual frustration and you’re just laughing, cool as a cucumber--.”

Before she’d gotten very far on her tirade, he kissed her again. God, she wasn’t easy but if this were an actual first date and he kissed her like that… She’d be inviting him upstairs right now. No hesitation. 

There was no groaning or hitting when he let her go this time. She just sighed resignedly.

“This abstinence stuff is not my cup of tea, let me tell you,” She sniffed, collecting herself. “Anyway, thanks for the date. And the flowers.”

“You’re welcome and you’re welcome,” He laughed. “So... am I getting another date?”

She backed away, looking like she was considering.

“Hm… Maybe…” She flashed him a playful grin as she reached the lobby door. “Depends on how fast you give me a call!” 

She fluttered her eyelashes before disappearing inside. Nate watched her go. And he called her as soon as he got home.


	4. Mum's the Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Vazquez's are back in this chapter, so check the note at the end for translations!

Their pictures were up almost instantly on social media, gossip accounts speculating about whether this was the same young, hot Latina from last weekend or if Nathaniel Archibald had simply picked up another one. You know. As one does. 

In any case, the Sunday papers published the next day were in agreement with the gossip accounts on two things: One, they had to find out who had been lucky enough to snag Manhattan’s most eligible bachelor. Two, whoever she was, she sure knew how to dress. Based on Ella’s research (ahem, midnight internet trolling, ahem), there were already a few lists dissecting the outfit piece by piece and then a couple more offering dupes. Blair was smug about it when she rang her up, to say the least. Ella had to admit defeat-- the pre-planned outfits had been a good idea after all.

She’d already warned her family about what might happen, but they called her up anyway when a picture of them kissing popped up on Thalia’s instagram feed. 

“I told you-- it’s like you’re dating a celebrity!” She exclaimed at the webcam. Ella rolled her eyes.

“I am  _ not _ dating a celebrity, people just… keep up with him. It’s not a big deal. But let’s go over the rules one more time--.”

Not to be distracted by talk of “rules,” her father poked his head further into the frame. They were all squeezed together on the couch back home, talking into Thalia’s phone.

“Oye, mima, I know that you like this guy but maybe a little less tongue next time, eh?” He made a grossed out face, pointing at the picture of her making out with Nate he’d pulled up on his phone. 

“I didn’t-- You-- Dad!” Ella flushed bright red. Her mother took pity on her, slapping her husband’s arm.

“Cesar! Deja la  niña , this is already a stressful situation,” she admonished. 

“Exactly! Yes! I’m already stressed about this being in the papers so… let’s go over the rules one more time!” Ella tried to generate some enthusiasm for “the rules” by doing something akin to jazz hands. Her family groaned collectively.

“We’ve been through it like 20 times!” Thalia complained.

“Es como si ella no confiara en nosotros…” Her father lamented

“Trust you guys?” Ella laughed. “Papi, you’re the only one I don’t trust!”

“I know how to keep my mouth shut!” He protested. She gave him a look.

“Oh yeah? What’s the first rule, then?” 

He paused.

“Don’t talk to reporters,” He recited smugly as soon as he remembered.

“Good, now what about talking to other people who aren’t reporters?” She prompted.

“Don’t do that either?” 

“Very good! Now what’s the third rule?”

“These are a lot of rules…”

“Literally just three! Come on, somebody answer me: what’s rule three?”

Thalia sighed, realizing she had to step in.

“Papi, if you do talk to somebody else-- like the neighbors, or primo Julio, or Tata, or abuelita, or one of the people buying cars, or those guys who come over sometimes for beers, or--.”

“Anyone,” Ella interjected. “Anyone you are inevitably going to speak to because you are a compulsive talker.”

Her father folded his arms indignantly but Thalia continued before he could defend himself.

“Right, anyone-- you can’t make jokes about how Ella and Nate were in love before a month ago,” Thalia finished. Her father pursed his lips.

“Obviamente,” He huffed. “But even if I did make jokes, nadie lo toma en serio, mimi…”

“It doesn’t matter if they take it seriously! Because when you guys don’t give the reporters a comment, you know where they’re going? To primo Julio’s house, or to the neighbors, or whoever, and somebody  _ will _ give them a statement. That statement can not get me in trouble, entiendes?”

Ella tried very hard not to yell, but her family always brought out the loud in her.

“Fine! Whatever you say, Capitana!” Her father mock-saluted her. She took a deep breath.  _ At least he’s feeling better _ , she chanted to herself. Of course, how much he was feeling better directly correlated to how annoying he was, but still. Better than half-told jokes punctuated by bloody coughing any day. 

———————-

The following week, an article was published by the Times finally naming the young Vanderbilt scion’s new conquest. (Max fucking Thompson!) Seeing her name somewhere other than the byline of the Spectator was unnerving. Jada jumped on her almost immediately about it. Ella had to explain the situation— at least, what she could— in hushed tones huddled in her cubicle. Jada squealed for five minutes straight when she realized the boyfriend Ella was always talking about was  _ Nathaniel Archibald! _

Still, she didn’t get too many odd looks while she was at work. She wore one of Blair’s pre-designated outfits everyday just in case, but even though she was photographed on the subway sometimes now, the publishing world seemed to be its own sphere, more worried about the fiction they were publishing than the social life of Manhattan’s elite. Ella held onto the hope that her editor probably wouldn’t notice what was going on, being much too submerged in manuscripts to care about anything else.

Friday night found her in her room after work, talking with Thalia via webcam while she did her make up.

“So you guys can’t have sex… until when?” Thalia raised an eyebrow.

“Until after our fifth major date, which will be our tenth date in total,” Ella sighed. Blair had specified that there would be major dates-- actively going out and doing date-type stuff-- and then there would be casual encounters in between. All of them very much G-rated, family friendly stuff, of course. 

“...Why are you letting these people tell you what to do again?”

“Because this is a tricky situation and I don’t want to fuck it up,” Ella explained for what felt like the hundredth time. “And I’m also getting a ton of free clothes.”

“You’re not even that into clothes… you own five different versions of the same sweater…”

“I do not! Whatever, this will all be over soon and then life can return to it’s usual programming.”

“And sex with Nathaniel Archibald,” Thalia’s eyes glinted.

“Don’t say his full name like that… it’s creepy.”

“What so you aren’t all like “Oh,  _ Nathaniel _ ! The way you fuck me truly does butter my scones, oh  _ Nathaniel _ !” Thalia took on a high-pitched British accent and then burst into laughter. “It’s the name of some old timey aristocrat, El!”

“Don’t be mean, it’s a nice name!” Ella defended her boyfriend. “But that’s why I only call him Nathaniel when I’m pissed off.”

They laughed.

“Have you met his family yet?”

“Not yet, and I don’t think I really want to,” She chuckled. “But Blair says it’s inevitable. His grandfather wants him in politics and is probably going to think I speak to a “wider demographic.”

“Because you’re Cuban?” Thalia asked dubiously. “The Archibalds are democrats. Doesn’t he realize most Cubans vote Republican out of spite of the missile crisis?”

“Not the young ones,” Ella reminded her. “But Nate has no plans to run for office again, so I don’t think his family will like me very much when they realize they have no use for me…”

“Well, fuck them,” Thalia settled it simply. 

“My feelings exactly,” Ella laughed.

“Where’s he taking you next, then? For bowling and brews?”

“That actually sounds fun… but no, we’re going out for dinner tonight and going for a romantic walk in Central Park on Sunday after brunch with the Humphreys.”

“Oooh, romantic walks in Central Park? Brunch with the Humphreys?” Thalia teased. “Mira la fina… are you even supposed to be talking to me? What if I get my lower class all over you?”

“Dude, really though?” Ella began, ignoring the jibes and leaning forward seriously. “I’ve never had to participate in so many ‘social activities’ in my entire life. Like. Why can’t they just hang out like normal people? Everything is some kind of event with a dress code…”

“At least you have the clothes for it now…” Thalia pointed out.

“In exchange for literal slavery, Thalia.”

“Modeling and slavery are two very different things, Ella,” Her sister admonished.

“Not if you’re modeling for Blair Waldorf!” Ella insisted, before pausing. “Though she still hasn’t called in her big favor yet…”

“Oh, come on. You’re friends with her-- how bad could it be?” Thalia countered.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say I’m friends with Blair. More like her acquaintance slash sometimes employee.”

At that, her sister pursed her lips disbelievingly.

“You know all of those New York gringos like you, Ella! It’s our famous Vazquez charm,” Thalia grinned winningly to prove her point. “Who can resist us?”

Ella sighed. 

“Woodrow can, apparently…”

“No, no, no, not another word about work. You literally just started working there, Woodrow doesn’t owe you special treatment.”

Ella pounced her powder brush on her face aggressively. 

“I know, it’s just frustrating.”

“On the bright side, the world hasn’t caught on fire because you’re dating your former boss so... that’s a win, right?”

“It hasn’t caught on fire  _ yet _ , you mean,” Ella muttered morbidly.

“Don’t be a drama queen. Really, you’re so negative all the time— it’s not like the world revolves around the lives of Manhattan’s elite anymore! This isn’t the early 2000’s!”

“You’re right, you’re absolutely right, it’s just we keep being photographed since last time and that was before people really knew about us, so I can’t even imagine how bad it’s going to get after tonight…”

“Ignore them,” Thalia advised soothingly. “They’re just doing their jobs and you guys aren’t doing anything wrong. Everything will be okay.”

Ella sure fucking hoped so.

———————-

Just a subway ride away in the Upper East Side, Nate was just getting out of a steaming hot shower when his phone rang. It was his mother. He suppressed a groan and picked up.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Nathaniel, sweetie, I’ve just heard some very alarming news,” His mother’s high-pitched tremulous voice cut to his eardrums. 

“Did something happen? Is Dad okay?” Nate asked, suddenly worried.

“Oh, no, your father is fine but I just got off the phone with your grandfather—.”

Nate froze. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was finally happening. God damn it, Blair was some kind of psychic. His mother continued, unaware of the panic he could feel rising in his chest.

“—and he told me that you’re seeing your former secretary? I told him that my Nathaniel would never do such a thing, let alone be indiscreet enough to allow his photograph to be taken with this woman, but—-.”

“Mom, her name is Ella,” He interjected. He sat down on the edge of the tub and rubbed at his eyes. “And she wasn’t my secretary, she used to work as an assistant editor at the Spectator—.”

“What?” His mother exclaimed. “You really are dating an employee? In this political climate? Nathaniel!”

“Former employee,” He said firmly. “And I’ve taken her out on exactly one date. Last friday. When she was decidedly not employed by me.”

“Oh,” His mother sighed, relief obvious in her voice. “Still, even if it is just one of your little flings, you shouldn’t be taking her out in public, sweetheart…”

“I—“ Nate dragged his hand down his face like he could pull the flesh straight off. She was not going to react well to what he was about to say. “Mom?”

“Yes, honey?”

“It’s not really a fling.”

There was silence on the line for a long moment.

“...I don’t understand.”

“Ella— Well, Ella and I…” Love each other? Are in it for the long haul? Might be each other’s soul mates? “I’m serious about her, Mom.”

There was another long pause. And then his mother laughed daintily.

“Of course you are, sweetie. Just like you were serious about the twenty other girls you dated in the past year alone…”

And just like that, Nate was done with this conversation.

“I’m taking her out again tonight. In public. Just… don’t listen to grandpa, okay? I’ve got to go, talk to you later, Mom,” He moved his phone away from his ear as she started yelling.

“Nathaniel, don’t you dare hang up on me—!”

“Love you, bye!” He yelled at his phone before hanging up. He stared at his home screen for a moment. He would never have done that— hanging up on his mother, that is— a year ago. Ella must really be rubbing off on him. 

———-

“Former secretary?” Ella scoffed. 

“Don’t worry, I immediately corrected her, but… fuck, why are Blair and Chuck always right?”

“Black magic? The channeling of demonic yuppie forces? Who knows,” Ella shrugged. Nate had been frenzied when he picked her up, but now that he’d told her the full story he was starting to calm down. 

“But let’s talk about something else,” He suggested, leaning forward with a sly smile. “Like how gorgeous you look right now.”

Composure regained, he could appreciate tonight’s outfit. It was interesting to see where Blair’s influence ended and Ella’s stubbornness began. She was wearing a dress and— gasp!— heels, which was certainly Blair’s idea. But the leather jacket she’d tossed over it? The pared down lines and all-black color palette? All Ella. 

She smirked, “Can you believe she wanted me to wear this yellow thing with flowers on it—.”

“You? Wearing color?” Nate feigned a gasp. “Doesn’t she know you only do that on holidays?”

“Oh, that’s not true…” She rolled her eyes.

“Gray is not a color.”

“It totally is!” She insisted. “And I wear other colors…”

“Like beige.”

“Uh, it’s called  _ nude _ , Nate.”

“Well, that just proves my point. The fact that it’s called nude— as in naked— implies that no, it isn’t a real color,” He took a bite of his steak for emphasis. She squinted at him menacingly over her soup bowl.

“I’m not conceding this argument! But... I wanna try your steak, gimme,” She made grabby hands in his direction.

He raised an eyebrow and took another bite.

“What do we say…?”

Her eyes immediately got darker— how many times had they done this bit in bed together? He had to know it was one of her turn ons by now, so it was deeply…  _ unjust _ of him to pull it out at the dinner table when he knew they couldn’t go home together afterwards. Ah, well. Two could play at this game.

She reached one foot under the table to skim his ankles and bit her lip.

“I don’t know, what do you want me to say?” She batted her eyelashes. Nate narrowed his eyes, the toes rubbing against his bare skin sending jolts of electricity up his leg.

“Something along the lines of, ‘Please, can I have some steak?’” He prompted, voice lower. She leaned forward, her tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip before she spoke.

“Please can I have some of your meat?” She asked, with perfect innocence. He nearly choked on the bite he’d just swallowed. He cleared his throat and she smirked for a millisecond before getting back into character.

“Please can I have some steak?” He prompted again, more firmly this time. She pouted. “Come on, I know you’ve got it in you…”

“I’ll tell you what else can be in me…” She muttered. He smiled before schooling his expression.

”No, no, repeat after me: Please can I have some…”

Five minutes and five thousand ludicrous innuendos later, Ella giggled as he handed over his plate. She was triumphant, he had a hard-on under the table and all was well. Until they heard a CLICK!

Ella’s head swiveled automatically towards the sound— it sounded so alarmingly close by. She immediately realized why. The photographer was at the table right next to theirs. She made shocked eye contact with him.

“Are you fucking serious?” She asked as the man stood up, grinning as he ran out of the restaurant. Ella stood as though to follow. “Hey, stop—!”

Nate got ready to leap out of his seat and tackle her before she  _ really _ gave them something to photograph, but to his surprise, she stopped herself and just sighed before sitting down. Her nostrils flared as she continued cutting up her steak.

“Babe…?” Nate trailed off.

“Yes, babe?” She aggressively cut the meat into perfect squares.

“... You alright?”

“They were literally a foot away from us,” She growled. “They have no sense of decency. I mean, come on, how did he even get past the Maitre D’? He didn’t even want to let  _ me _ in!”

“That’s not true, Mario just has a dry sense of humor—,” Seeing Ella’s eyes glint scarily, he backtracked. “But that’s irrelevant. El, we knew this would happen. Right? It was just a picture…”

She twisted her mouth and set down her knife and fork.

“I just want us to be left alone, Nate.”

“I get that, trust me. But I don’t know what to tell you, this is my life,” He sighed. “You could always break up with me, you know. It’d be less trouble. You wouldn’t have paparazzi scaring you in the middle of dinner.”

“Ha, like you’re getting away from me that easy,” A small smile cracked the thin set line of her lips. He settled that aquamarine gaze of his on her, his expression so warm she instantly felt better. God. He really was turning her into a sap. She sighed. “I’m sorry, I have to stop freaking out every time something like that happens. I just… I miss you.”

He reached a hand across the table and she placed hers in it. Warm and strong and comforting, if she could live in the palm of his hand she would. He didn’t laugh at her for saying something as ridiculous as “I miss you” when they were sitting at the same table having dinner. He understood.

“Don’t be sorry. I miss you, too,” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. She looked so pouty and dejected that it was taking everything he had not to throw her over his shoulder and carry her back to his place. He shook his head free of those thoughts. “Just think, in two more weeks this shit is finished and we can get back to living our lives.”

She looked off into the distance as though looking to a better, brighter future.

“I’m going to finally see the inside of your apartment… That’ll be interesting,” She smiled.

“Oh, why?” Whatever she was thinking of was putting her in a better mood, so he was down for going on a tangent.

“I’m gonna get to see Nate Archibald’s infamous bachelor pad,” She smirked. “You’ll have to give me a tour of all the fan-favorites.”

Nate set his lips in a line.

“Infamous bachelor pad…” He repeated. “You make me sound like a villain with a lair.”

“Just the opposite!” She exclaimed. “You were providing a public service. You know… servicing all the ladies in Manhattan.”

Her grin was unrepentant and infectious. Nate chuckled in spite of himself-- Ella could always say the worst things and still get a laugh out of him.

“Hey, my services extended to other boroughs…” He protested.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. Wouldn’t want to understate the walking sex magnet that is Nate Archibald,” Ella returned to the steak in front of her and took a pithy bite. 

“You weren’t exactly a saint in college, either,” He reminded her, deciding to try some of her soup. Lobster bisque. Not half bad, but then again nothing at this place ever was. “What was it you told me? Eleven guys and two girls?”

Her mouth dropped open. She knew it had been a mistake telling him about the girls...

“Well, those stats are a tad exaggerated,” She quickly recovered, though a flush was creeping up her chest. “But mine are really unimpressive in comparison to yours… What was it again? Thirty three-- including a married woman?”

“Tell me, did you just kiss those two girls or was it a homerun both times?” He tapped his chin pensively.

Now she flushed pink.

“I was very drunk. And they were very pretty,” she replied, trying and failing not to giggle. “Fine! We’re both a couple of whores, is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yes,” He grinned before sipping his wine. 

“God, I hope _ that _ doesn’t get published…” She murmured, shaking her head.

“Thankfully, all of my slutting around was already in all the papers, so…” Nate shrugged. Ella burst out laughing.

“Slutting around… I have this image in my head now of you with a short skirt and a pair of heels just schlepping it around Times Square…” She chortled, turning red. Nate grinned, but the expression fell as soon as she looked at her plate. Just the sound of her laughing was enough to turn him on again. He suppressed a sigh. Just two more weeks. Two more weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Cesar Vazquez:  
> \- “Oye, mima, I know you like this guy but…”  
> “Hey, honey, I know you like this guy but…”  
> \- “Es como si ella no confiara en nosotros…”  
> “It’s like she doesn’t trust in us…”  
> \- “Obviamente… But even if I did make jokes, nadie lo toma en serio, mimi...”  
> “Obviously… But even if I did make jokes, nobody takes that seriously, my love…”  
> \- “Fine! Whatever you say, Capitana!”  
> “Fine! Whatever you say, Captain!”  
> Ella Vazquez:  
> \- “...That statement can not get me in trouble, entiendes?”  
> “That statement can not get me in trouble, understand?”  
> Yesenia Vazquez:  
> \- “Deja la niña, this is already a stressful situation…”  
> “Leave the girl alone, this is already a stressful situation…”
> 
> Thalia Vazquez:  
> “Mira la fina…”   
> “Look at the fancy pants…”


	5. Gossip, Gluten, and Grand Theft Auto

As it turns out, a lot can happen in two weeks. You can go from being just another anonymous person on the subway to suddenly being page six news, for example. 

“Cinder-Ella: Snagging the Prince of the Upper East Side?” Dan frowned at the first article in his stack of newspapers. He shook his head. “Christ, why can’t I read my morning paper without seeing your ugly mugs all over page six?”

Nate shot him a look, but Ella just plucked the newspaper out of her old editor’s hands, his insults whizzing harmlessly over her head.

“God damn it… Why do they always use this picture? My eyes are half-closed!” She exclaimed, showing it to Nate as he munched on pancakes. It was the group shot from the Spectator’s app launch party and it wasn’t exactly the most flattering photo. It didn’t help that they’d drawn red circles around their respective faces so the casual observer could spot New York’s hottest new controversial couple at first glance. Nate flipped to the article and skimmed.

“At least this reporter didn’t make me seem like a skeeze ball of epic proportions,” He shrugged. 

“That’s a win if I ever heard one,” Chuck tore off a piece of french bread and popped it in his mouth. Blair squinted and grabbed the newspaper.

“Let me see that…” Her eyes glided down and her brows knit together. “Yeah, this isn’t that bad…”

Ella, not willing to take anyone’s word for it, took the paper back and read rapidly, eyes darting back and forth.

“Except they’re making me seem like a social climbing whore!” She seethed. “Snagging a prince-- I mean, come on! Like I stole you from a convenience store…”

Nate laughed-- he couldn’t help it!-- but quieted immediately when Ella gave him a look that could have put down an elephant.

“Uh-oh, sounds like someone needs another mimosa!” Serena swooped in, placing glasses of fizzing orange juice and champagne in front of them. 

“Thank you, now if you could just pour me a tub of this to drown myself in, that’d be great…” Ella sipped her mimosa darkly. The table collectively rolled their eyes.

“El, think about it this way,” Chuck leaned forward. “It’s better that they think you have ambition instead of painting you as some doormat with no goals or prospects, right?”

“I guess…” She sighed. “At least Woodrow still hasn’t noticed anything-- I really don’t want to have to explain this situation to her.”

“There you go, keep it positive! You’ve been dragging down the energy of the whole room,” Blair sipped her coffee with a smile. They’d been taking the title of non-judging breakfast club pretty seriously lately, meeting up for brunch most weekends. These were, of course, supposed to be strategy meetings, but things had been going so smoothly that now they were mainly just for hanging out. Blair decided a switch in subject would be helpful before Ella had yet another panic attack. “So, Henry is excited for today.”

Just as she’d hoped, the furrow in Ella’s brow undid itself almost immediately at the mention of today’s play date.

“We are, too!” She grinned, taking Nate’s hand on the table. “We were thinking of hitting up the Met and then feeding ducks in Central Park, maybe going out for pizza afterwards…”

“...Pizza?” Blair asked, eyebrows arching sharply. “As in the greasy, gluten-filled, lactose covered monstrosity that passes for food in this city?”

“I found a gluten free option by the park, but it isn’t lactose free… Is he intolerant? I didn’t know or I would have planned for that…?” Ella’s eyes were so wide and apologetic that Chuck and Blair just had to laugh.

“No, Blair just likes to watch everything our son consumes like a hawk,” Chuck laughed. Blair raised an eyebrow. He quickly amended. “A very sexy hawk.”

Blair shook her head and sighed.

“I don’t want my child eating garbage! That’s perfectly reasonable,” she insisted.

“Don’t worry,” Nate soothed. “The pizzeria’s a nice little place, I’ve been there before.”

“Are you sure you two want to take care of him all by yourselves?” Blair worried. “Dorota could come with you, help out a bit--.”

“Dorota needs time to rest,” Ella said firmly. “And you have nothing to worry about, I have cousins I used to babysit back in Miami. Henry is an angel in comparison.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say he’s an angel, but he is a good kid,” Chuck slung an arm around his wife. “And he’s a big boy now, he knows how to behave when he’s out in the public eye.”

“Better than I do, probably,” Ella sighed. Because this-- like every other outing with Nate thus far-- was probably going to be documented by the paparazzi for posterity. Their tenth and final date of their official “coming out to the American public” circuit. Bringing the kid along had been Chuck’s idea, which was why Blair was flustered about it. 

“Oh, absolutely,” The man readily agreed-- which Ella tried not to be insulted by. “Taking Henry along with you is going to melt everyone’s hearts, humanize you two. People love people who love kids. It’s a great marketing tactic--.”

“And Henry’s been dying to spend time with his Uncle Nate, which is what really matters,” Serena broke in. 

“Don’t any of you feel a little guilty about using Henry as a marketing ploy?” Dan ventured, one eyebrow cocked in judgement.

“Ella and I are not using my godson as a marketing ploy,” Nate said firmly. “His parents are.”

“Well, it sounds just awful when you say it like that. Thank god nobody asked for Dan’s opinion,” Blair shrugged dismissively. Dan pursed his lips.

“This is just a fun, family-friendly outing,” Ella sighed, rubbing her temples. “We’ll be staying as far away from photographers as we can, believe me. I just can’t guarantee they’ll stay away from us.”

“Just don’t lose the security tail we put on you guys and stay in their sight at all times,” Blair reminded, eyes very serious. 

“Of course,” Ella and Nate nodded at the same time before glancing at each other. He could see the thoughts spinning in her head--  _ Paparazzi? Security tails? What is my life coming to? _ He put his arm around her and leaned towards her ear.

“Everything is gonna go great, El. You’ll see.” 

\-----------------

“I don’t wanna go to the Met,” Henry pouted, crossing his arms and doing everything but stomping his foot. 

“Henry…” Blair said warningly. He turned his scornful gaze on her.

“But Mommy, you take me there all the time! I’ve seent all of it,” he insisted.

“Seen. You’ve  _ seen _ all of it,” she corrected.

“Exactly! Why do I have to go again?” He whined. Blair frowned at her son. 

“Henry, you have  _ not _ seen all of it, I was just correcting your grammar,” She clarified. “The Met has one of the most extensive collections of---.”

“I. Don’t. Wanna!” He yelled. Blair’s mouth dropped open.

“Henry! Keep this up and you’re not going anywhere today,” She folded her arms.

“Mo-om…”

“Henry,” His father’s voice rumbled from his nearby open office door. “Stop talking back to your mother.”

“But Da-ad!”

“Okay-- Hen?” Nate cut in, kneeling to get on his level. “The yelling’s got to stop, okay? I want to hang out, but only if you behave like the big guy you are.”

“I just don’t want to go to the Met, Uncle Nate. I promise I’ll be good if we go anywhere else!”

“We could compromise…?” Ella offered. All eyes turned to her. She looked at Henry. “ I mean, I’m not attached to the Met, we could do something else… Do you have any suggestions on where else you want to go, Henry?”

“I wanna go play video games at Uncle Nate’s house,” He took his godfather’s hand with an overly-innocent smile on his face. Nate held back a laugh and Blair narrowed her eyes. Just like his father.

“Out of the question,” She shook her head.

“But Mom--!”

“Henry, what did we say about yelling?” Nate reminded him.

“What if we go to the park early?” Ella suggested. “We can bring a ball and play until lunch time?”

Blair nodded slowly.

“That could be good… fresh air and exercise… he could take his lacrosse stick--.”

“Oh! I wanna play basketball!” Henry clapped his hands excitedly. “I’m gonna dunk on Ella so hard!”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve got some pretty sweet blocking skills,” Ella feigned indignance. 

“Girls don’t play basketball,” Henry asserted with confidence. He noticed the adults frowning at him. “What? They always want to play kickball instead, even though that’s the dumbest game…”

Ella had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep from cracking up.

“Kid, we have a lot of work to do with you,” Nate laughed, messing up his hair. “So, what do you say, Mama Blair? Basketball and varied physical exercises until lunch?”

“And video games until dinner?” Henry added with a wheedling smile.

Blair looked between the two of them before throwing up her hands.

“Fine! But no roughhousing… and the game cannot be violent,” She stipulated. Ella gave Henry a congratulatory high five that he returned with gusto. His father suddenly appeared in the open doorway to his office.

“Well, he can’t go play B-ball dressed like that,” Chuck shook his head. “Give me five minutes with him, guys, and then he’s all yours…”

Unceremoniously, he scooped up his son with a roar and then took him, kicking and screaming happily to his room upstairs to change.

\-----------------------

When Henry emerged again, he was bedecked in an outfit Nate swore Chuck himself had worn in high school. He wondered how he’d shrunk it down so much. His godson was sporting a navy blue tank top, trimmed in bright yellow and patterned with crowns. His arm and head band were baby blue. His kicks were what one would colloquially describe as ‘dope.’ Henry smirked and pulled on a pair of shades to complete the look.

Chuck looked about to burst with pride and his wife looked… resigned. Nate glanced at Ella, who was extremely amused by the outfit change.

“Very… Very nice, Henry,” She had to stop herself from laughing. “Now you’re ready to dunk on me… or try to!”

Henry lowered his shades to give her a stink eye and then giggled. Taking hold of Ella’s hand, he proceeded to describe his every life experience related to basketball for the entire ride to the park.

—————-

“You met  _ who _ ?” Ella couldn’t believe it. Shaq had never even played for New York!

“He wanted a suit from Mommy,” Henry shrugged. “He was like a giant.”

“God, I bet. That’s awesome that you got to meet him.”

“It was pretty awesome,” He grinned. “If he ever comes for dinner again, I’ll tell Dorota to call you over.”

Ella laughed.

“That, my man, would be the best gift anyone has ever given me.”

Henry couldn’t resist turning to Nate and sticking out his tongue. If meeting a famous NBA player was the best gift Ella had ever gotten, his godfather hadn’t been doing too good of a job then. His mom and dad were always buying each other gifts.

Nate looked shocked that Henry was stepping on his game like that. He got Ella gifts! Or, fuck, he tried to but she was always so resistant to things that involved money. The kid just had no idea how stubborn his girlfriend could be. Still, he kept his indignation to himself. He had a gift-- a surprise he knew she wouldn’t be able to say no to-- lined up for Ella as soon as Henry was safely back home today. 

———

Ella had to admit one thing— taking care of Henry sure took her mind off the paparazzi. Maybe it was the security tail, or because they had a kid with them, but the photographers weren’t in their faces at all. They had to be staked out in the bushes or something, but still. Ella appreciated not having to deal with them directly.

Lunch was accompanied by the sound of Henry trying to convince them to give him something— anything— with gluten in it. Nate looked ready to give in a few times, but they sat down to eat their cauliflower pizzas uneventfully. 

They walked back to Nate’s place, an exhausted Henry riding on his shoulders and Ella holding his hand. He’d been thinking about this exact moment— bringing her back to his place— since the dinner party last year. There was a knot of anticipation tightening itself in the center of his chest. It didn’t help that Blair had put her in something suitably sporty for today’s activities— skintight black leggings and white crop top, both emblazoned with the Adidas logo. He was suddenly thankful she had worn nothing but slacks to work at the Spectator because… Ella? In leggings? If it weren’t for the presence of children, he would have hauled her back to his apartment hours ago, the PR be damned.

Henry was still jabbering away from his perch on Nate’s shoulders to Ella, who smiled and nodded. She’d been listening the whole time— Henry was just as smart and funny as his parents—but when they were finally out of Nate’s  _ hella _ nice apartment lobby, into his even nicer elevator, she started to tune him out. The anticipation was distracting. 

They got to his doorway and Nate looked to Ella with a surprisingly shy smile before unlocking the door. Henry, of course, wanted to play Grand Theft Auto the second he scrambled off Nate’s shoulders. He scampered directly to the giant media unit taking up the entire wall to the right. Ella lingered by the entrance, taking it in.

Her imagination had supplied many ideas about what her boyfriend’s place looked like on the inside, but somehow the real thing was better in every sense. An advantage of being wealthier than the average bear, Ella was rapidly learning, was getting to have everything tailor made to fit your aesthetic, and his apartment was no exception. It looked so very Nate. Exposed brick graced almost every wall, the trim was painted a matte black. The couches were beautifully tufted leather. There were black marble countertops in the spacious kitchen-- and it seemed he even had a separate room for his bed, which impressed her most. 

“Are you gonna come inside?” Nate asked, smiling softly at where Ella had paused, eyes darting around her as she tried to take it all in. Those brown eyes finally landed back on him, beautiful and just as oddly nervous as he was. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. 

“This…” She looked up and around her in awe. “Nate, this is the most beautiful bachelor pad I’ve ever seen.”

“Uh, thank you?” He laughed. “You want me to give you the grand tour?”

“Obviously,” She smiled. He took her by the hand.

“Henry!” He called. “Put down Grand Theft Auto and let’s show the lady the facilities.”

Henry put down the video game reluctantly and lead the way through the apartment. Kitchen, living room, hallway, office, two guest bedrooms (“Sometimes I stay in here… Oh, but sometimes I stay in here!” Henry exclaimed, running between the adjacent rooms), two guest bathrooms… and one master bedroom with an en-suite. 

Ella and Nate trailed after Henry as he ran into this last room. Nate got the strangest feeling, like whenever he’d had friends over for the first time in high school and they finally got to see his natural habitat-- you never knew what your room would say about you to the casual observer. The feeling was even more intense now that he wasn’t bringing someone over to his parent’s old townhome. This was his place, he’d picked everything in it… He hoped she liked it.

Ella peered in at Nate’s bedroom and found it to be much like the rest of the apartment: warm, masculine, traditional, but clean. Simple and not overwhelming. The reds, browns, and blacks of the other rooms were offset by a bed made up in soft grays and whites, cozy and inviting looking even with Henry bouncing on top of the covers as part of his guided tour.

Nate tightened the arm he had twined around her waist and leaned down to press his lips her shoulder. The kiss felt cold and hot at the same time on her skin, the sight of his bed reminding her that it had been a month since they’d slept together. She shook off the shiver that crawled down her spine.

When they returned to the living room, they had to put aside their anticipation and talk Henry out of GTA. They opted for a video game less likely to get them murdered by Blair: Mario Party. Despite his initial sourness at not getting his way-- he was his parents’ son through and through-- Henry was a pro at the game. Ella and Nate held their own. They were all on their feet and trash talking each other by the time Blair and Chuck came over to collect their son.

“Aw, can’t I stay?” Henry whined, much to his parent’s amusement.

“It’s time for dinner, Hen,” His mother glanced at Nate and Ella’s desperate expressions with amusement. “And Uncle Nate and Ella have plans.”

“They’re just going to practice Mario Party so they can beat me next time,” He grumbled.

“How did he know?” Ella stage whispered to Nate before reaching down to mess up Henry’s hair.

“Quit it!” He laughed.

“Alright kid, come here and give me a hug,” She pulled him in. “We have to do this again soon so I can finally kick your butt.”

“You wish,” He giggled as Nate swung him up for a bear hug. “Put me down!”

“What? You used to love it when I did the roller coaster!” He exclaimed, spinning and tossing the disgruntled boy. Jesus, he’d gotten even heavier since lunch.

“Back when I was 5! I’m 6 now,” He wriggled out of his godfather’s grasp and retreated to his parent’s, who were less likely to take him on any undignified ‘roller coaster’ rides. 

“Yeah, Nathaniel, he’s too old for that kind of thing…” Chuck admonished. “Which means he won’t be wanting any of the cookies Dorota dropped off for him, that’s for five year olds…”

“I didn’t say that!” His son quickly corrected.

“Alright, you two… Have fun,” Blair winked before leading her brood out the front door.

“Safety first, love birds!” Chuck called as the door fell shut. 


	6. Alone at last...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly, this is a very long chapter... but let me know if you're mad about it by the end, tho. ;)

“Ah, alone at last,” Ella sighed, dropping onto a bar stool. From across the counter, they slowly smiled at each other. She bit her lip. He was way too far away from her right now. “C’mere a sec, would you?”

Nate pretended to sigh heavily as he moved around to her. “What could you possibly want from me…”

“Nothing! Just, you know…” She grinned up at him and pulled him down to brush her lips against his. 

It was soft and slow at first, but then it fully sank in that he had her all to himself for the first time in weeks. Cupping her pretty face, he slid his tongue into her mouth in a way that made her squeeze her thighs together. She licked her lips when he pulled back, twining her fingers into his belt loops, his hand stroking down her jaw.

“Are you hungry?” He asked.

“Mmhm,” She nodded with a suggestive glance downwards. He chuckled and pressed his lips to hers again. She threw her arms around his neck and slanted her mouth over his. God, he felt so good, her fingers knotting themselves in his soft hair as his hands traced the exposed skin between her crop top and her leggings. Before it could get too steamy, though, she pulled back. “But, horny as I am… I’m also really gross right now.”

It was true. They’d gotten rather sweaty running around the park and there hadn’t been a chance to clean themselves up.

“Luckily, I’ve got a pretty nice bathroom… We could order some food and get cleaned up while it gets here,” He suggested. 

“Hm, I don’t think I saw this bathroom you speak of… unless I’m banished to the guest bathrooms?”

“Babe… shut up,” He laughed, pulling out his phone. Ella rested her forehead on his chest, hugging him to her while he ordered food. “Are you down for Thai food?”

“As long as it’s not that cauliflower pizza crap, I’m down,” She giggled before releasing him and hopping off the stool. She wandered over to the fridge. “You got any booze, Archibald?” 

“I don’t know, do I?” He smiled as he continued fiddling with his phone. She gasped when she opened the refrigerator. “I have champagne, I have wine, there’s some liquor in the freezer--.”

“Ooh, beer!” She pulled out a Corona with a wide grin. “Did you get this on purpose?”

“Do you mean did I buy that beer specifically because it’s what you were drinking the night before we fucked the first time?” He shrugged slyly. “You can’t prove that.”

She felt a flush creeping up her chest at the memory but shook it off. _We’re already dating, stop getting so affected by everything!_ Nervous now, for some god forsaken reason, she decided to keep teasing him, opening up his freezer.

“Well, if you really wanted to pay homage to that night, you would have also bought some rum...” She gasped when she saw it. Not only did he have the exact brand of rum they’d taken shots of at her family’s house, he also had almost every other kind of alcohol she could possibly want. “Jesus, you have a whole liquor store in here.”

“We’re celebrating, aren’t we? What do you want from the place?”

“Red curry with bamboo shoots, please,” She continued rummaging through his freezer. “Want me to fix you something?”

Nate finished fiddling with his phone and crossed over to her, gently taking the bottle of rum out of her hand. 

“How about you head to the bathroom and I’ll bring _you_ a drink?” He smiled down at her. “Let me be nice to you for once.”

She rolled her eyes and kissed him. Once. Twice. Three times.

“Because you’re always so horrible to me, ugh, why am I even dating you…” She murmured sarcastically. He pulled her hips closer and gave her one last, knee-weakening kiss.

“Alright, get your cute ass to the bathroom,” He spanked her, sending her on her way. She wondered why he wasn’t joining her immediately, but realized the reason as soon as she stepped inside.

Firstly, the bathroom was jaw droppingly huge and luxurious, so he was probably giving her a second to compose herself. Secondly, there were candles everywhere. He must have snuck in here under the guise of using the bathroom to set up everything because the wicks had barely burned down. The tub ensconced in the center of the room looked more like a jacuzzi with _actual fucking seats_ and bubbles threatening to spill over the edge. A tray had been placed on the vanity. On top of a layer of rose petals was a glass pipe and a little silver box. She brushed her fingertips over them hesitantly, afraid to touch anything.

“That’s for you…” Nate’s inimitable voice informed her from the doorway. A smile spread on her face and she beckoned him inside. He acquiesced with a smile. “Did I do good or what?”

“You…” She closed the distance between them and kissed him, pecking after every couple of words. “Are just… the sweetest… human being… I’ve ever… met…”

“Ah, I did good,” He sighed contentedly, turning his face so their lips locked more deeply. Her mouth went from sweet to hot and insistent in just moments. His hands pressed into the small of her waist, his fingers tucking into the edge of her leggings. He glanced to the mirror next to him as they made out. They looked so fucking good together. And she _felt_ so fucking good, pushing him against the vanity so she could press her body to his, her sweet tongue licking the roof of his mouth. The slight friction of her hips against his was sending blood rushing straight to his dick.

He slipped his hands under the elastic waistband, feeling the soft skin hidden by the fabric, contouring his palms to the curve of her ass and squeezing. She moaned into his mouth, squeezing her thighs together. 

Ella knew Nate had probably planned a whole sequence of events they were going to follow— order food, get in the tub with drinks, dry off, pack a bowl, eat their pizza while they watched a movie— and then, after he’d been sufficiently romantic about it, they would at some point have sex. But Ella wasn’t really a romantic. At least, not right now. Right now, she just really, really needed him inside her.

“Baby,” She latched her lips onto his earlobe, teasing the soft skin with the tip of her tongue. “I want you to fuck me. Right now.”

He groaned, pulling her closer and reaching a hand between them. He traced over her clit through the thin fabric of her leggings. She arched into it, moaning.

“You want me to fuck you,” He repeated, drawing a path back down to where he could feel she was already so wet for him. He looked down at her, biting his lip as he cupped her. Her face crumpled in a moan. Fuck. He was getting so hard, knowing sex after more than a month of nothing was going to make everything feel tighter. “I thought you wanted a bath first, baby…”

“Mmm,” Ella kissed him hard and sloppy, her hands moving to the waistband of her leggings to work them down. When she spoke, she spoke against his lips. “I changed my mind. I want your cock and I want it now.”

“Brat,” He smiled into the kiss. He wasn’t about to complain, though, not when she separated herself a bit to kick off her leggings and underwear. Now wearing nothing but her white crop top, she turned around, put one knee on the ample marble vanity and bent over, tugging him by his belt loops so he was pressing his clothed hard on to her exposed backside. 

“But I’m _your_ brat,” She pushed against him, guiding his hands up her torso to cup her breasts. Once again, he had a chance to appraise their reflections. They looked even better now. 

He pinched at her nipples through the fabric, pebbling under his fingertips. She arched against him, turning her face towards him so they could kiss. He thanked the active day they’d had because he was wearing joggers that he could push down easily. Who cared if they were dirty and caked in dry sweat? She was grinding her ass into him and he couldn’t wait another minute. 

He pushed inside slowly and it felt like his brain short circuited. He stopped a second, breath stuttering at how tight she felt. She wriggled desperately against him, wanting him deeper already. Jesus, she felt so fucking good. Just like that night they’d had in Miami, he was struck by the slight change in their dynamic now. Before, when Ella was still with the Spectator, their sex had been hot, but with an undercurrent of self-consciousness, neither wanting to slip up and do something that would make it weird between them. Now, though… call him a selfish bastard, but he there was a visceral pleasure in knowing every single fucking little bit of her was all his. No questions. No doubts. No fear.

“I love you,” He breathed, starting to fuck her hard and fast. So much for taking things slow and building up. But he figured a month of foreplay was enough. She was touching herself while he pounded into her and the shape of her from behind like this was too much to handle. He used his hands to press her into the vanity.

“I love you too,” She whimpered, voice punctuated by his thrusting. They were making love, except it was too desperate, both of them stretched wire thin with desire. She rubbed frantically at her clit, feeling him just pound away at her insides and enjoying the slight pain of being stretched so much after a month of nothing. He was so responsive to her every reaction. If she winced even a little bit, he’d see it in the mirrors reflection and slow down. She couldn’t help but wince now as he stretched her open, but she didn’t want him to slow down. She reached a hand back to cup his thigh and pull him closer. “Please don’t stop, please don’t stop, please don’t stop...”

Hearing her moaning, Nate was so glad she’d gotten on birth control shortly after their trysts started. He was going to bust any second, he just wanted her to come first.

He was sweating again from his exertions. The feel of her and the look of her and even the tangy sweaty scent of her all heated up with sex had him digging his fingers into the fleshy curve of her hips, pistoning towards his climax. The second he felt her tighten up, that tell-tale convulsion of her orgasm, he let go. 

She pressed her face, mouth open in an “O”, against the cool marble as she came, eyes squeezed shut. The release was so intense. She’d had orgasms during this month away from each other (hello, phone sex…) but nothing was as good as the real deal.

\-----

“Oh, fuck,” She whimpered, rubbing out the last of her orgasm, rocking back and forth slowly on his dick. He seemed sapped of strength, bowing over her, twitching a little as she slowed to a stop. He slid out gently, but they both still winced.

“God, you make me cum hard,” He commented, admiring the mess he’d left behind. She laughed, still prostrate next to the sink. He rubbed his warm hands all over her rapidly cooling skin, up her back and down her arms. She let herself just lay there for a second, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her sensitized skin before she shook herself awake again and straightened. Turning to face him, she kissed Nate again and again all over his cheeks and lips until he was laughing. She rested her face against his chest, tucking the top of her head under his chin.

“We really do stink,” She laughed, breathing in the scent of his sweat-soaked t-shirt.

“Time for a bath then,” He stripped off the offending shirt and kicked off his pants before pausing. “I’ll get us those beers? We can just chill in the tub, I can have them leave the food in the kitchen for us.”

“Ah, to have servants doing my bidding,” Ella teased. Nate rolled his eyes but she paid no mind, stripping off her crop top. “It’s a yes to the beer for sure-- can I put on some music?”

“Just connect to the bluetooth, there are speakers in every corner. I’ll be right back,” He kissed the top of her head and wandered off naked to grab their drinks. Ella climbed into the tub, careful not to splash her phone. The water was perfectly warm and sudsy. It only took her a few moments before her music was pouring from the surround sound speakers.

By the time Nate returned bearing beers, she’d opened up the pretty silver box next to her new pipe. It was filled with bud, so she’d taken the liberty of packing them a bowl.

“Wanna get cross-faded?” She grinned at him, offering him the pipe. She got a good long chance to admire her boyfriend's ridiculously fit frame as he climbed into the tub.

He grimaced, handing her a Corona. She knew he hated that word. God damn it, she was lucky she was gorgeous, the bubbles clinging in snowy flecks to her bare breasts and the ends of her long, dark hair. Concealed from the waist down, it almost looked like he had a mermaid in his bathtub. 

“Please don’t ever say that word again,” He begged her. 

“What… cross-faded?” She teased impishly. “Cuh-rosss faaaded?”

“It’s such a stupid word,” He complained, with more passion than he actually felt about the subject. It was just fun arguing with Ella.

“It’s just a word, babe,” She laughed, taking a gulp of her beer. “Words are descriptive handles for different concepts. This particular word just describes the phenomenon of being drunk and high at the same time.”

“Descriptive handle or not, anyone who uses it sounds like a frat boy,” He maintained. She cracked up and set her beer aside to light the pipe.

“So... this is mine?” She asked, releasing a plume of smoke into the air. The little pipe was beautiful, flecks of gold and silver swirling through the elegantly molded glass. 

“All yours, but,” He took it from her when she offered. “I’ll allow you to keep it here if you want.”

“Ah, you’ll _allow me_ ,” She rolled her eyes, leaning back against the walls of the tub. 

“You know, for when you come over,” He shrugged, eyes sparkling-- fuck, his eyes were so blue they literally sparkled-- as he took a hit. He blew out a perfect O and then another smaller one that shot through the center of the first. Ella gasped like a child watching a magician. 

“Ooh, you’ve gotta teach me how to do that…”

A little while later, Ella came to the conclusion that she wasn’t cut out for blowing smoke rings.

“I suck at this,” She groaned, trying for the hundredth time to just let the smoke sit on her tongue like he’d told her.

“You have to stop inhaling! Just push it out gently with your tongue--,” He took the pipe from her to show her again, but she wasn’t having it.

“I’m over it, babe,” She informed him, running her toes against his leg beneath the frothy bubbles. He blew out three more smoke rings, just to show off and smirked at her. She shook her head. “I get it! You’re a bigger pothead than I am, you win.”

“This isn’t a competition, El,” He reassured her. “Though if it was, yes. I totally win.”

Ella pursed her lips and settled further into the tub, laying her feet in his lap.

“You know I’m going to have to learn how to blow smoke rings now, don’t you,” She sipped her beer pensively. “Even if it’s just to beat you at it.”

“You can try,” He smiled back, running his thumbnail up the instep of her foot. She shivered and jerked her foot away.

“That tickles!” She complained, though she immediately put her foot back in his lap. He pressed his thumb into her heel and massaged-- no tickling this time. She relaxed into his grip, just looking at him from across the tub. “How’s work been?”

Nate shrugged. “The app’s been running great, but the paper’s numbers are still declining. Slower than they were before, but, you know, people just aren’t reading the paper anymore.”

“It’s a good thing you got the app in place last year,” Ella nodded. She felt a hit of nostalgia thinking about all the preparation that went into making the app possible. “God, that was stressful.”

“You enjoyed every second of it, though,” Nate smiled, remembering. It was her turn to shrug sheepishly.

“I want to deny that… but I can’t.” She smiled. “Who’d you end up replacing me with?”

Nate grimaced. 

“Well, you’re irreplaceable, so I wouldn’t say we replaced you…” He trailed off. “But we replaced you with Vic.”

“Good choice,” She nodded, thinking about the quiet dude who had jokingly (she hoped) referred to her as “the slavedriver.” “He’s quiet, but he’s serious. He’ll work well with Dan.”

“He seems to be adjusting to his new position,” Nate agreed. “You’re missed, though.”

“I really doubt that, babe,” Ella smiled amusedly. “Most of the office thought I was a Jezebel, remember?”

“Only for a little while,” He defended. “You had their respect earned by the end of it.”

“I hope so,” She sighed. “Now it’s your family that thinks I’m the whore of Babylon... “

“The secretary of Babylon,” Nate corrected with a laugh. “Speaking of which… I know you aren’t religious, but is your family Catholic?”

“I mean… yeah, I guess? They don’t go to church, but my Dad’s got a soft spot for la Virgen de la Caridad…” Seeing Nate’s frown of confusion, Ella clarified, “Our Lady of Charity, I mean.”

“I’m only asking because my family are devoutly non-practicing Protestants,” Nate clarified, before asking, “But how do you say that in Spanish again? It’s about time I start learning.”

“La Virgen de la Caridad,” She repeated. Nate tried to sound it out, but it sounded like nonsense. She was very high so she couldn’t stop herself from giggling at his attempt. He scowled at her.

“If you’re just going to make fun of me--.”

“Sorry! Just… repeat after me: La.”

“La. Okay, I’ve got that one.”

“Virgen,” She rolled her Rs in a way that was very sexy, but also seemingly impossible to imitate.

“Veerhen,” He tried, his tongue just not moving the right way. “No, it’s not like that, it’s like-- Veerrhen?”

“Close! But try putting the tip of your tongue against the middle of your hard palate…” 

“Babe, put my tongue in the middle of my what?” He lifted an eyebrow, rather seductively. She pursed her lips. 

“Your hard palate, Nathaniel. The roof of your mouth.”

“Why don’t you come here and show me?” He bit his lip, running his hands up her legs. Ella sighed loudly but stood to move closer to him. She moved slowly, deliberately, soapy water running down her naked body. Nate took in the sight through eyes hooded by marijuana, taking another gulp of beer as she moved closer, settling delicately on his lap like she couldn’t feel he was getting hard again under her.

“Okay,” She smirked a little, putting her arms around his neck. “Put your tongue-- not right behind your teeth but a little further back. The tip should vibrate against your hard palate and that’s how you roll your R’s.”

Nate had only really wanted her to stop being on the opposite side of the tub for… obvious reasons. Like getting to watch her say the words “vibrate against your hard palate.” but now he was actually curious about this rolling his Rs business. 

“Rrrr,” He tried.

“Keep the tip there loosely pressed against it…” She reminded him.

“Rrrr?” He tried again before shaking his head exasperatedly. “This is ridiculous.”

“What? Rolling your Rs?” She grinned. “You mean… like this? Rrrrrrrrrr.”

He rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t be good at blowing smoke rings _and_ at rolling your Rs, babe. You’re already wealthy and freakishly attractive, how many more advantages do you want?” She admonished him playfully. 

“Freakishly attractive?” His eyes flickered to her mouth and she bit her lip, both of them shifting a little to settle more comfortably against each other. “Not… devilishly attractive?”

“I wouldn’t say you’re devilish, though…” Ella played the contrarian.

“How about dashingly attractive?” He offered. “I think that works, don’t you?”

“Dashingly attractive,” She considered it, running her dripping wet fingertips across the tops of his broad shoulders absently. “Yeah, I think that works… A dashingly attractive gringo that can blow smoke rings, but can’t roll his Rs…”

“You’re the worst,” He grinned, kissing her. He sucked her lower lip between both of his and bit down softly. Her breath caught and her hands slid against the column of his neck, wetting the ends of his hair. Music was softly playing in the background, something lo-fi and relaxing, and the scent of vanilla and lavender rose fragrantly from the tub-- yes, he’d poured some bath oils, sue him. It was the first night in forever he’d have Ella all to himself and he wanted it to be special. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” She smirked, kissing down his jaw and then back up to his ears, the lobes velvety soft between her teeth as she softly dragged them over his skin. His grip tightened on her and she moved her hips against his for a little much needed friction. His erection was pressing against her clit and it was driving her crazy.

“Fuck,” He exhaled when her wandering mouth found the tense muscles between his shoulder and kneck, kneading one side with her hand and the other with her teeth. She knew just how hard he liked it. As it turns out, he was surprisingly masochistic. People never mentioned that when they talked about the Golden Boy of the Upper East Side, but Nathaniel Archibald was one kinky bastard.

She kissed him again, grinding against him a little harder. He put his hands in her hair to keep her in place, but she pulled them gently down.

“No,” She murmured against his lips.

“No?” He echoed, wondering what she was saying no to as she continued teasing him.

“No, you can’t touch me,” She smiled a little, placing his hands on the edges of the tub.

“Babe…” He whined a little. She traced his high cheekbones and full lips, desire burning hot where the two of them connected under water.

“You don’t wanna play a game, baby?” She bit her lower lip. He replied by kissing her, but kept his hands where she’d put them.

“What are the rules?” He asked, voice hoarse as she kept grinding against him.

She leaned towards his ear. “Keep your hands to yourself and I’ll get you off.”

“No touching?” 

“No touching.” She smirked. He pouted. He wasn’t sure he was going to like that, but he was already tipsy and high at this point and he’d agree to anything so long as she helped him release the knot currently tying itself tighter in the pit of his stomach. She reached between them, wrapping her hand around him. She pushed back his foreskin gently, stroking a few times before she lined him up and sank down.

She went slow. So agonizingly slow at first, biting her lip and laughing when he groaned. His hands seemed to move of their own accord towards her, but she slapped them away, pinning them down with her own as she sped up her pace.

“Who’s cock is this?” She asked, half playful, half hissing into his ear. The sensation of water being pulled in with him inside her was fucking incredible.

“It’s yours baby,” He told her through open mouthed kisses. “It’s yours.”

“Damn right,” She exhaled, releasing his hands to cling tight to him, bouncing up and down. “Fuck, you fill me up so _good_ …”

Wanting him deeper, as she always did, she decided to switch to reverse cowgirl. Nate had experienced this several times back at her apartment. On her bed, on her couch… Ella loved being fucked from behind and that was more than fine with him when he had such easy access to her ass. But she hadn’t been dripping wet any of those other times, slick with bubbles and bath oil, her long dark hair soaked at the ends as she propped her arms against the opposite edge of the tub. The water roiled with the movement. She glanced over her shoulder, riding him and enjoying how he said her name and how he clenched his fists hard trying not to reach for her, genuinely playing along with her game.

She leaned back to kiss him, grinding into his lap.

“You can touch me now,” She whispered. Immediately his hands were hot on her breasts, squeezing and plucking at her erect little nipples. She moaned and kept up her lap dance, his arms wrapping around her, keeping her close and feeling along the soft fullness around her hips and breasts.

It was too much. But, as it turned out, it was too much for Ella who was glad Nate had his arms around her as she came.

“Fuck,” She gasped, falling back against his chest. He resisted the urge to laugh at her just yet, letting her recline against him, his cock still rock hard and inside her as she came down from the orgasm. She was breathless when she spoke again. “Damn it, I’m sorry, baby.”

“Sorry?” He asked, shaking his head and planting kisses along the side of her face. Ella had so much personality it was easy to forget how small she was, but she always seemed so much smaller after sex, so vulnerable and sweet. 

“You didn’t come,” She said sadly. 

“I haven’t come _yet_ ,” He corrected her. “We have all night, remember?”

“Oh, right,” She laughed, turning her head to catch his lips. “You think we just suck at the whole ‘edging’ thing?”

“I don’t think that’s it,” He hissed a little feeling her tightening around him as she laughed. “But maybe we should dry off and get in bed, huh? Save the edging for another night...”

“Mhm,” She consented, a little blissful smile on her lips.

\------------------

Wrapped snugly in a towel, Ella took all the smoking implements into the bedroom. Nate followed, spanking her soundly a few times before going to get them their food. 

When he returned, he found her, bowl packed in one hand and remote in the other. On his flatscreen, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia was on. 

“Is this on purpose?” He asked, handing her a plate. She set aside the remote with a grin.

“Do you mean, did I specifically put on this show because it’s what we watched the night before we first fucked?” She imitated his earlier statements and then grinned. “You can’t prove that.”

He shook his head, climbing into bed. Ella cuddled up next to him. He didn’t care that he hadn’t come-- wouldn’t have even if they didn’t have all night together-- but they did. They had tonight and the following day and every night after that if Ella wasn’t as averse to the idea of sleeping over as she was to the idea of moving in. This, the two of them together in bed, was all he wanted. 

Washed over with a deep sense of relaxation and well-being, the likes of which they hadn’t felt for almost two months, it didn’t take either of the workaholics very long to fall asleep. Ella curled up against his side, her legs intertwined with his. Late in the night, the television had gone dark by the time Nate came to again. Ella had slipped her hand in his boxers-- probably for warmth-- and his dick twitched a little as it contacted her finger tips. She was breathing evenly, still asleep. Feeling himself getting hard, he brushed back her hair and kissed her. She’d wake up if she wanted sex or push him off and turn over if she didn’t. It was a routine they had perfected months ago when he slept over at her place.

She kissed him back sleepily, pulling herself closer and pushing up against his leg. Gently, he turned them over, kissing down the slender throat. He took his time, determined to enjoy every inch of her naked body as her eyes fluttered open. He started with her clavicle, scattering kisses along the bone and then running his tongue in the hollows above. Her breath caught in her chest, her back arching off the mattress as he kissed the tops of her breasts. Her skin was so impossibly soft, the feeling of her nipples hardening against his tongue made him groan. 

Her hands found their way to his hair, softly stroking and gently pulling before running lightly over his shoulders and upper back as he travelled lower down. She was usually too ticklish for him to kiss her belly, but he was so gentle now, his lips so soft against the sensitive skin. However, he then ran his tongue along her hip bones and she suddenly wasn’t remotely sleepy. She was awake and her nerve endings were on fire.

She helped him get her panties off, but he wasn’t going to let her rush him. With something akin to worship, he spread her legs and kissed down her thighs. He let the little noises she made guide him, lingering on the knees and biting down her shins. Her graceful feet he saved for last, kissing up the insteps.

Her hands found him in the dark as he kissed back up her legs, urging him towards her sex. But if she had her games, he had his. Laying between her legs, he pressed his own erection into the mattress and blew across her clit. She shivered, gasping a little laugh. 

“Baby…” She pleaded.

“You don’t want to play a game, Ella?”

“Depends on the game-- oh,” She cut herself off as his tongue softly laved against the hard little bundle of nerves. So fucking soft and wet, withholding true pleasure and leaving her exposed to the cold air when he withdrew. When she spoke again her voice broke a little. “That kind of game.”

He smiled up at her and just… kissed her clit. Her hands drifted towards his hair, hoping to guide him back down but he just shook her off, laughing a little. She moaned in protest as he firmly pinned her hands to her sides.

“Them’s the rules, Ella,” He said before laying his tongue flat and broad against her entrance and dragging up. She shuddered when he followed this by dipping his tongue just inside her. Her legs jerked a little at that. 

“You know, you always say I’m the worst, but really, I think you…” She trailed off when he moved one hand and slid his middle finger just a little deeper than his tongue had gone. He pulled it out and pressed it back in, just a little deeper every time.

“I’m what?” He asked, his sexy smile almost visible in the dark.

“The worst,” She breathed. He chuckled a little, sliding the finger out. He didn’t bother answering the insult because he was busy latching his mouth onto her clit. He wet it with his tongue and sucked, repeating this motion until Ella was squirming. “Please! Please!”

He didn’t “Please, what?” her. He knew what she wanted as she spread herself, bucking under his tongue. He slid a finger in, all the way this time and she gasped, her exhales turning into a moan as he dragged it in and out. She felt like she’d been shocked when he licked her clit again, sucking hard afterwards. She came in a rush. Nate pulled the finger out and released her. 

“Fuck, baby,” She moaned, hands reaching for him. He didn’t withhold. She’d played by the rules, after all, and he was also just too turned on right now to deny her. Maybe they really did suck at this edging thing… He settled on top of her, letting her kiss him and touch him everywhere, clawing at his back and ass before burying her hands in his hair. He slid up against her wetness, meanwhile, and enjoyed the feeling of her bucking her hips trying to get him to slip inside just like that. 

“Let me help you out there,” He chuckled in her ear, latching his mouth to her neck as he guided himself inside her. How was she still so tight? Was she doing Kegel exercises when he wasn’t looking? It felt like she might be doing them right now, just squeezing up on him. She was so responsive to him, so expressive. It was fucking hot.

Ella writhed as he buried himself in her over and over, her nails digging into his back. Her legs bent at the knee, giving him the best access she could to just fuck the fuck out of her. As always, he was happy to oblige and what had started as a soft, sleepy romp in the sheets turned into something more suitable for a pornographic film. 

“Please… harder…,” She whimpered in his ear. He captured her mouth, his tongue mimicking what he was doing with his hips, each thrust accented by the delicious taste of him. He pulled back to look at her, one hand burying in her hair. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth slightly open. 

“Harder?” He breathed, getting onto his knees so they were at a ninety degree angle to each other. He hoisted her legs onto his shoulders and angled downwards, they’re skin slapping together.

“Oh, god,” Ella squeezed at her breasts, her eyes fluttering open. He was staring at her, and their eyes locked. “You feel so good…”

He bit down on her left calf-- it was right next to his face and he couldn’t help it. He wanted to devour every inch of her right now, thrilling in her whimpers of pleasure as he pressed her legs up towards her chest.

Not usually so flexible, Ella still managed to turn herself into a pretzel to give him access to the deepest parts of her.

“Fuck, Ella,” Nate gasped, eyes squeezing shut as she started to squeeze around him again. He let her legs drop to the side so he could be closer to her when she finished. They kissed, open-mouthed. Her hands were on his ass, urging on his relentless pace. “Someone’s desperate for this cock, huh?”

“You have no idea, baby,” She groaned. “Nothing feels this good-- oh, fuck! Right there, please--!”

He’d turned her on to her side, getting at her from a new angle. She was also able to play with her clit now, which had her racing towards an orgasm like she hadn’t already cum three times that night. The way the length of him dragged against her walls was too good.

“You’re so fucking good for me, holy shit,” Nate’s hands dug into her hip. “I’m going to cum, baby, I’m so fucking close--.”

Abruptly, Ella pushed at his abdomen, interrupting his rhythm and sitting up a little so he slipped out.

“What are you--,” Nate started in confusion, but she was pushing him down onto the mattress as quick as a flash. She settled between his legs, her eyes shining cat like in the dark.

“I’m being good for you, baby,” She murmured, running her tongue gently on his balls, making his fully erect dick twitch around. She’d dripped down all over him, so he tasted of her when she ran her tongue up the underside of his cock. His legs jerked a little when she closed her mouth around him, just for a taste. “You’re so fucking delicious…”

Nate watched the silhouette of her head bobbing up and down a few times, her small mouth sinfully wet around him. As good as it felt, though, he’d been about to cum just a few moments ago and he was a little miffed at the interruption.

“You just love torturing me,” He breathed as his cock hit the back of her throat. She came back up for air, her smile almost visible even without the light.

“I can’t help it,” She admitted, straddling him. The tip of his dick grazed her pussy, still soaking wet as she teased him. “But you fucking like it…”

He bucked his hips in assent, pressing in just a bit, even that slight penetration driving him crazy. She rotated her hips, shaking back her hair as she slid down...and up… and down again… each time deeper… each time better… until she was riding him like only she could. 

His hands found her hips, not to change their movement but to feel the rolling shape of her. She used her body to milk the last bit of strength out of him, her hands braced on his chest as she dropped kisses on his mouth. She’d found a good spot for them both and she moaned as she ground her g-spot against him.

“Good girl, good girl,” He groaned, spanking her. She whimpered again, clawing at his chest.

“You close again?” She breathed, still working away on top of him. 

“Fuck, yes,” He said through gritted teeth.

“Mmm,” She brought his hands to her breasts, letting him squeeze and manipulate them roughly as she kept riding him. “Give it to me baby, I want you to make a mess inside me… There you go, just like that-- fuck, you’re so good, I fucking love you--.”

And that was it. The thing that finally made him cum: her saying she loved him. She was shaking and breathless when she collapsed on his chest. 

“Fuck,” She whispered against his skin, shivering a little when his dick slipped from inside her. Nate wrapped her up in his arms, still coming down from the explosive orgasm he’d had, his cum dripping out of Ella and pooling on his lower abdomen. As he came to his senses, he pressed kisses to the top of her head.

“You’re everything to me, you know that?” He whispered in the dark. “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? That explicit rating wasn't just up there for my health after all!


End file.
